


Sacrifice

by Silvermoon27



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 18:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 53,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17730236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvermoon27/pseuds/Silvermoon27
Summary: The brother, the warrior, the leader: Leo's always been there for his family, giving everything he has to keep them safe. But this time is different. This time the brother must turn his back, the warrior must fall, and the leader must stand alone. Because sometimes, the only way to save the ones you love is to lose yourself.





	1. His Choice

**A/N: Another fic I originally posted on FFN. This is an alternate ending to the 2012 season one finale. When I watched it a few years back, I felt the episode was lacking in the emotional department. This is my take. Enjoy!**

* * *

 

 

{Raph}

We run down the hallways, turning into one after another, heaving for breath as that metallic Kraang freak crawls after us. We don't have any options left, and we're running out of the time and the space to come up with something that'll get us out of here in one piece. To make matter's worse, Donnie's got an unconscious April hanging limp in his arms, and Mikey's ankle was busted by one of the broken floor panels. I've been carrying him as best as I can, but my arms are starting to feel like jelly and my legs are burning furiously. I can't hold him like this for much longer, and we're going to be in some real trouble if we can't figure something out in the next five minutes.

We turn into another large corridor. Leo glances around wildly as he skids to a stop. His chest heaves with breath, and he's slick with sweat.

"What do we do now, Fearless?" I huff, pausing to let Mikey off my back so I can breathe for a minute. He limps by my side, holding my shoulder for support and glancing down worriedly at his swollen ankle.

"I-I…I don't know…" Leo pants, whirling in every direction as if a plan is going to just throw itself at him. But then his eyes lock onto something along the ceiling, and he gets a look on his face that I really don't like.

"Donnie," he breathes. "Those are power conduits, right?"

Donnie's gaze flickers off of April's small frame and follows Leo's. "Y-Yeah. They converge down through the hallways and to the center of the ship, from what I can tell. That's where Kraang Prime was—"

"Yeah," Mikey scoffs. "Until he grew legs and started coming after us like some freaky octopus robot assassin."

Leo pauses for a moment before glancing down at April. "Is she okay?"

Donnie gets a sad look. "I think so… I don't know what they did to her brain, though." His eyes steel over. "We have to get her out of here."

Leo nods. "I've got a plan."

"What?" I ask, breathless. "With the power thingies?"

"I'll cut them from the ceiling and get Kraang Prime tangled up. Those things have to be transporting some serious power. The shock should kill him—"

"And blow the entire ship to pieces!" Donnie snaps. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

Something shifts in Leo's eyes. "No."

I can see it in his eyes then. The determination, the fight to refuse that this is the end. He won't go down until he brings this whole place with it, and in that realization, my brother seals his fate.

"Donnie, get Raph and Mikey to the escape pod down the corridor." He unsheathes his katanas and glances back when Donnie doesn't budge.

"Donnie—"

"So you can blow up with the rest of the ship?" Donnie presses. There's a frantic tone in his voice—an inflection of fear. He knows. I think we all do. "That's incredibly stupid, Leo! There's got to be another way. Let us help you—"

"Donnie, I said go!"

Donnie stomps his foot in refusal. "No! We're not leaving you here!"

I manage to find my voice, somewhere beneath the look in Leo's eyes. "You're nuts if you think we'd actually let you go down with this thing!"

Leo's eyes are burning now. "Look, Mikey can barely walk and April's out cold! We can't stay here any longer— _you_ can't stay here any longer! If you guys don't get out now, we'll all be dead, and everything we've done won't mean a thing!"

"But Leo—"

"Get out! Now!"

I step forth, snarling. "You idiot—"

Leo points his blade towards me, his eyes glinting. "That's an  _order_ , Raph."

I stop, glaring at him as I try to hide the shaking in my knees. He can't do this—he's gone insane!

Mikey limps as he shifts his weight to his good leg and leans against the wall for balance.

"Leo…we can't just leave you here, bro," he whimpers.

Leo holds his gaze on us for a moment, and I can see the emotions waver across his eyes. But then he blinks, and when his eyes open, they've gone hard.

"I'm not giving you a choice."

And with that, he goes charging towards the curving wall across from us, using the bent panels as footholds as he lurches for the ceiling and slices one of the power conduits straight through. Sparks fly and the air pops with the massive release of energy. I duck, instinctively pulling Mikey away as we all move back to avoid the spray of electricity. Cords along the wall catch, bursting from the panels in simmering cracks, spewing more and more sparks. Something in the wall catches fire and smoke starts to pour from beneath.

Donnie curses under his breath and snatches me by the back of the shell when a blaring spurt of fire and sparks shoots my way.

"We've gotta move, Raph!" he growls impatiently.

"B-But Leo," I stutter. He's running up the other wall now, aiming for the next conduit. This whole place is going to explode if he keeps—

"He's made his decision!" Donnie snaps. "We have to listen to him—now come on!"

Another slice of the swords. Another shower of purple sparks, sizzling cracks and pops. Leo hits the ground and glares back at us for a split second before the bone-chilling shriek of Kraang Prime erupts from down the hall.

"Dudes," Mikey whines. "We gotta get out of here—like, now!"

" _Move_ , Raph!" Donnie snarls, shoving me back. "The pod's just over there!"

But I can't feel my legs. I can't get my eyes off of my brother, standing in the midst of the raining sparks, among the flames that lick and hiss at the air. He's facing in the direction of Prime, his katanas ready, the conduits hanging limply from their hold on the ceiling. My heart drops further and further until it hits my gut, and my stomach twists.

And the name rips up my throat, raw as the echo bleeds through the collapsing facility.

"Leo!"

But he won't turn to me. He won't meet my gaze, won't look me in the eye and tell me that everything's going to be alright. He keeps his back to me, facing his decision head-on, and leaving the rest of us behind.

Donnie pulls at my shoulders.

"Raph, please—"

"No!" I swat him away, heaving for breath, for comprehension beyond this reality. "No—let me go—LEO!"

"We have to go! Now!" He grabs at me as best as he can with April still in his arms, tugging me along. Mikey joins in, equally terrified, his eyes wide in fear and understanding. He hands wrap around me and pull me back, limping as he struggles to keep his hold on me.

"Come on, Raph," he begs. "Please…"

I'm fighting both of them. Thrashing blindly, wildly, angry beyond control and lost, completely lost in the torrent of what's happening now. He can't do this—he can't leave us like this—he can't!

"Don't you dare!" I scream. "Don't you dare leave us alone!"

But my cries go unanswered. Leo just keeps walking—away from us, away from his brothers, his family—and he doesn't even say goodbye.

I feel myself bowing, weighed down beneath the realization, the horror, the fear, and the burning ache tearing through my insides. The blood rushes through my head and I can't breathe right. I'm falling, crashing, breaking, burning, dying—because he just keeps walking, his form slowly consumed by the smoke, by the flames and the wreckage. My knees buckle and I slump against my brothers, unable to stand under the weight.

Donnie and Mikey finally succeed in dragging me back into the escape pod, holding me down against the seat as the glass shield closes overhead. My eyes are burning, tears spilling forth, blurring my vision as I clench my jaw and watch my brother face the end alone.

* * *

 


	2. When the End Begins

* * *

 

**_Earlier…_ **

{Leo}

We push forth. Through the crazed streets of the city, now lit with newfound panic and chaos as the humans struggle for a grip on their waning sanity. Through the alleyways, grazing over rooftops, our eyes locked forward and our hearts stammering in our chests. No one says a word. Not even Mikey, whose silence and lack of poorly told jokes is particularly unnerving.

The sound of our breath, our steps, our sweeps and tumbles are the only things that fill the void we've found ourselves in. Well, that and the wailing sirens and frantic screams down below. We keep moving until we reach the vast metal sphere illuminated in strips of blaring iridescent purple. I try not to pay attention to the orbs ejecting from the ship as the Kraang target the civilians down below. My instincts are telling me to save everyone I can, to drop from the rooftops and free the people being taken captive. But I know our mission is the Technodrome. Once that's shut down, the rest will follow.

And so, with the Kraang focused on the streets of scattering humans down below, we scale up the back end of the ship, avoiding the guns protruding from the sphere. We keep pressed against the vessel and wait for another orb to shoot off into the city. Once it does, I give the go-ahead, and we climb into the opening left by the pod.

_With the world at stake, the only thing of importance is that you complete your mission. No matter what you have to sacrifice…or who._

Sensei's words are ringing through my mind as we infiltrate the Technodrome, filling the silence that lingers between my brothers and I. They're all afraid, but they keep passing brief glances towards me when they think I'm not looking as if they're checking to see how composed their leader still is. And it's the hardest thing I've ever done, hiding my fear from them. I've put on a brave face many times, but now, it's difficult to hide the tremor from my hands as I grip my katanas, the quiver in my voice as I give orders, the shakiness of my breath as we move. It's a constant battle inside of me, conflicting with the one on the outside. I'm terrified, but I have to be strong. I must shove down the fear, bite it back, crush it between my teeth and move on with strength and determination. I must lead my brothers.

But it's a struggle. As we reach the innards of the Technodrome, as we stumble through the curved hallways, dodging passing orbs and Kraang bots, my fear only grows, and my resolve begins to waver. We're in the belly of the beast, and it's up to me to get us out safely. And I'm just not sure if I can do that now.

But I don't get another chance to let my thoughts sulk before a scream rips through the air. Donnie pipes up, his voice cracking in his fear.

"That's April!" he gasps. And he takes off running down the hallway. The three of us go after him, glancing at one another and then back to Donnie, who's stopped ahead of us.

"She must be in the interior of the vessel," he spouts, whirling around to the splitting hallways.

"How do you know that?" Raph argues. I can catch the fear in his voice—it sharpens his tone, disguising it as anger. But I know better. "This thing is huge—she could be—"

"Look at the size of these hallways!" Donnie snaps. "The orbital ships are being ejected from all sides of the Technodrome, and each of them is sent down one of these tunnels in order to reach the outside. That, and factoring in all of the lasers and guns on the exterior, it's a safe bet that the only real room in this place is going to be at the center. Plus," he points up, "all the wiring systems along the ceiling are transferring energy in that direction, so the command center or whatever Kraang ships have must be that way."

Raph's expression slumps the way it always does when Donnie shows him up with something irrevocably logical and sound. He grunts in response and crosses his arms.

"So," I start, "if we follow those power lines—"

"Conduits," Donnie corrects. I pause to glare at him.

"So if we follow those power  _conduits_ ," I growl out the word and he nods with a slight grin, "we should find April."

"That's the most likely of theories, yes."

"Then let's go. Keep to the walls, you guys, and move quietly." I glance back at Mikey. "Got that?"

I catch him staring off into space with a grin plastered on his face. He shakes his head when he sees me looking at him and clears his throat.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Totally."

My eyes narrow and Mikey responds with a sheepish grin. "Raph," I start. "When we get to the command center, make sure Mikey doesn't try to press any of the buttons."

"Got it."

Mikey's face slumps. "You're not allowed to use your freaky brother-mind-reading power around us, man. It's not fair."

"I'm not reading your mind, Mikey. I've just had the displeasure of living with you long enough to know when you're thinking something stupid."

He pauses, pursing his bottom lip before shrugging. "That's fair, I guess."

"Good," I mutter. "Now let's move!"

~T~

{Mikey}

 _Pfft_. I wasn't really going to try flying this thing…unless, you know, it looked like something I could operate.

But Leo dashed that dream against the wall in a split second, and now we're back to sneaking through the Technodrome, silent, scared, and wondering if we'll ever get out of this.

No one will say that, of course. But no one needs to. We're all looking to Leo like a bunch of terrified kids who keep glancing at their parents for reassurance in the desperate hope that they're somehow in control of things. And after everything we've been through, I've learned that Leo, one way or another, will always be there to get us out of the mess we've made.

We hide beneath a loose panel in the wall as another Kraang drifts by, followed by another little human-snatching circle ship. I can see Donnie twitching nervously, glancing from side to side, sweating from his forehead. We've only heard April scream one other time since we got here, and I can tell it's getting to him. He's practically off his rocker with the thought that she's in danger.

And it takes two and a half forevers to finally get to the center of the ship. Like everything else, the outer wall is a huge sphere (the Kraang aren't exactly a creative bunch), protecting the inside room. We wait for a moment, trying to listen to what's going on so we know what we're jumping into. But before Leo can give the orders, Donnie starts slinking along the wall, feeling for a weak point.

Leo glares at him warningly. "Donnie, we need to come up with a plan before you just—"

 _WHAM!_  Donnie smashes his foot through the wall with a well-placed kick, and Leo scowls in response. But once again, before Leo can say a thing, Donnie goes right through the hole he's made and vanishes from sight.

I can tell Leo's building up a mental list for the lecture he's going to give Donnie after all of this. Every time that little vein above his left eye twitches, I know he's added another bullet point.

And boy, is that vein twitching now.

The three of us go tumbling in after Donnie, completely clueless as to what to expect. But I can definitely say that I was  _not_  expecting a giant Kraang face sticking out of the wall. It looks at us in a mixture of surprise and disgust (but come on, has it looked in a mirror lately?) and shrieks something in its creepy language. And it probably wasn't something nice, either.

But Raph wastes no time in throwing himself at the freak, nailing it right between the eyes with a brutal kick—and boy, do I know from experience that that thing's in some major pain right now.

It starts screaming. Horrible, awful sounds spew from its gross brain face and echo through the room, ringing in our ears. I wince, covering the sides of my head in an effort to block out the sound. Not that it helps at all.

Donnie screams out something about April, who I've just noticed is strapped down to a table on the ground below us with all sorts of wires and cords sticking out from her. Leo jumps down to help Donnie, and I watch the two of them argue below Raph and I. I can't hear a thing past the Kraang's shrieking, so I assume it's about whether or not pulling the cords will hurt her. But it's not like they have much of a choice in this situation, and sure enough, they start tearing out the tubes. I can see some blood beading to the surface of her pale skin where the tubes used to be, and I have to look away. She doesn't seem to be conscious anymore, and I don't want to think about what she had to go through before she went under.

Raph's eyes narrow in rage at the sight of April's limp and battered body as Donnie and Leo climb back up to us. I can see the anger in Leo's eyes too, but it's nothing compared to the look on Donnie's face. It's like a storm swirling in his eyes—pain and sadness and anger and fear, all mashed together in one heavy cloud.

Raph stomps his foot and swears loud enough for me to hear past the Kraang's noise-making. And then he suddenly snatches one of his sai from his belt, whirls around, and hurls the blade at the Kraang, stabbing it between the eyes with a sticky thump. The howling gets worse and I flinch under the pressure of it. Gross purple blood stuff starts spurting out from under the blade protruding from its face, and I can tell by the way the hilt is stuck smack against the brain flesh that it's in there pretty deep.

 _Man, I'm glad I've never made Raph_ that _angry._

But you know, now that I think about it, it seems kind of dumb to just be a face sticking through a hole in the wall. How's it supposed to protect itself—

_Thwack, thwack, thwack!_

I practically jump into Raph's arms when the whole room starts shaking. The sound of panels snapping off the walls smacks against my ears.

 _"FOOLS!"_  it bellows. And we all look on in terror as we realize that it's not just a face, but a whole, giant, robotic body. The arms and legs are spindly, and unbelievably long, and as the Kraang pushes through, that whole side of the wall just about pops off. We have to duck to avoid being decapitated by flying debris, and Leo barks something that I think we all assume means "RUN!"

And we do. Toppling over one another as we scramble to escape through the hole Donnie made with his foot, we push out the other side, sprawling and scattering onto the floor. And then we start running. Fast.

"You just  _had_  to stab it in the face!" I snap, glaring in Raph's direction. He snarls at me.

"Yeah, well I should've gone for its eyes, that little—"

The ground shakes beneath us, throwing our balance off. My face hits the floor with a thump and I go tumbling as the wall behind us is torn completely open. The sound of metal being wrenched in half is probably one of the worst things I've ever had to listen to; I can feel it in my bones. My body tenses against the offending sounds and I look to my brothers.

Raph and Leo are both hunched over, covering their ears, their faces mushed in a "Make it stop!" expression. Donnie's scrambling to his feet, holding April close to his chest to keep her from being hit with anything. It'd be cute if we weren't about to die.

"Keep to the walls!" Leo shouts. The floor quivers and begins to be pulled upward from the middle, causing Leo and Donnie to slide back against the opposite wall and effectively separating us. "We have to get back to the escape pods! Donnie—"

_CRACK!_

Suddenly, the ceiling caves in, busted through where the Kraang thing smashed one of its robotic limbs. Smoke and sparks spew up from the crumbling debris, shoving me against the wall in a frantic attempt to not be crushed to death.

I start coughing as the dust fills my lung. My vision is blurred by the heat and the stinging in my eyes. The fear comes in like a cold, crashing wave, and my heart skips.

"Leo!" I call desperately.

A hand grabs me by the arm and pulls me up.

"Move!" It's Raph. I'm trying to wipe the dusty haze from my eyes, but Raph keeps pushing me along. "Come on, Mikey! We're gonna get crushed—"

Another boom. Another horrible cacophony of cracking boards, screeching metal and crumbling chunks of structural matter. I let out a squeal and high-tail it forward, this time dragging Raph behind me.

"Mikey—Mikey, wait! Geez, you're gonna make me break something—"

"Then you might wanna  _move_  a little  _faster_!" I shriek. We jump forth and dive down into a roll just as another part of the ceiling comes raining down. I cough, wiping the grime from my face and spitting out a wad of icky Kraang-dirt.

"Leo!" I scream. "Donnie! Where are you guys?!"

Raph shoves me over. "They're on the other side of the tunnel. We've gotta get past all this junk, 'cause there's no way we're climbing over any of it."

I nod hastily and glance back for a second. I can't see the Kraang, but I can hear it screaming at us and smashing things. Dust and pieces of the ceiling keep dropping above us, loosened by the Kraang's rampaging. I think he's mad that he can't find us. Maybe he should've thought about that before he brought the roof down.

"Come on," Raph hisses, jabbing his finger forward. "Let's keep going—quiet this time. We'll meet up with Leo and Donnie at the end of this hallway."

I swallow fearfully and nod. "Yeah…yeah, okay."

And so I follow him. We creep along the edges of the wall, and he has to plaster a hand over my mouth to keep me from shrieking every time something shakes or falls. We move over the debris, stepping carefully past the exposed wires and crackling electrical systems. I swat his hand away for a second.

"Is April gonna be okay?" I whisper as we scale the ceiling that's all over the floor.

Raph makes a noise in the back of his throat. "She better be, or I'm going to rip every Kraang I find in half and shove them in a meat grinder."

I pause to let the description sink in. "That'd be some nasty shredded beef." I glance back behind us and refrain from making a sound when the ground shakes again. "I think Donnie might beat you to it, though."

We move for another minute or so—I can't really tell at this point—when the Kraang starts screaming and thrashing around again, shouting something in Kraang-speak that's incredibly loud and sounds really insulting. You know, if I spoke Kraang.

"That's close," Raph hisses. "But I think it's on the other side—that thing must've found Leo and Donnie—"

But he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence before an enormous  _WHOMP_  breaks my eardrums. A wave of force shoots from wherever the giant Kraang is, throwing debris and ripping more panels and beams from the walls. The air is filled with flying rubble and the bleeding alien shrieks that only those stupid brains can make. My heart leaps, kick-starting my body, and I go running across the wreckage, desperate to get as far as I can from the car-sized chunks of metal crashing down behind me. Raph's right behind me, swearing under his breath as we both stumble over the mess. Another crash emits from behind, and Raph cries out before throwing himself at me. His body hits mine, and he pulls me into him, forcing the two of us into a roll just as a huge piece of the wall above us comes down.

My ears are ringing, and every part of me hurts. But Raph pushes me up and urges me to keep running, shouting indistinctively from behind.

I'm huffing for breath, my heart punching my rib cage, my head ringing with the constant screech and crumple of metal and ship parts. I can see the end of the hallway now, and my heart does a little happy flip when I see that the split in the floor tapers off just ahead.

"There!" I shout to Raph, though I doubt he can hear me. We keep running, scrambling, tripping over displaced beams every two seconds, but we're almost there—

And again, the thumping. Again, the booms, like thunder ripping through the air. The floor quakes beneath us and the whole ship turns slightly to the side. I cry out as I lose my balance, and my foot suddenly catches in a pile of rubble. I fall over, jaw clenching against the sudden sharp pain searing through my ankle. I desperately try to pull my foot out from between the wreckage, but it's stuck.

_Come on, come on! Let me go, you stupid floor!_

Oh, man, I'm gonna die here—

Raph reaches me, panting and covered in a slick layer of sweat and grime. His eyes scour the rubble my foot's caught in, and he glances behind me, his gaze wide in fear.

"You okay, Mikey?" he gasps.

I swallow hard and give a short nod. "It hurts—"

He goes right for the debris and starts trying to pull it off of me. He grunts and curses as he struggles to move the fragments, but they must be too heavy because he can't even get them to budge. He sits back for a moment, gasping for breath. His hands are shaking, and I can see blood smearing from his fingers where the skin was peeled off from all his pulling.

"Is it broken?" he breathes.

I shrug. "I-I don't know—but I can't get it out—it hurts too bad—"

His facial expression shifts for a moment. His jaw clenches, and he swallows.

"We don't have time; I'll just have to pull you out."

My heart skips. "But—"

"I know it's gonna hurt, Mikey—I'm sorry, but it's the only thing I can do."

And before I can protest, he wraps his arms around my torso and yanks upwards. My foot is freed—but not before something cracks. My vision goes white for a second, and it hurts so badly that I can't even get a real scream out. It's more of like being punched in the gut, where all you can do is gasp for air because it feels like you can't breathe. I'm still in shock when he hauls me out from the debris and shifts my weight onto his back. He starts running for the edge of the hallway again, slower this time because I'm not exactly light. My eyes are blurred with stinging tears and I have to keep my jaw clenched so I don't start crying. Oh, it hurts—it hurts so bad—

The pain is like a throbbing beat of sickening warmth. My whole ankle is pulsing with it now, all the way up my leg and down my foot. It's gotta be twisted, or broken or completely obliterated—

Oh, Donnie's gonna have to cut my foot off—

I'm gonna be a stumpy-foot turtle for the rest of my life—

"There they are!" Raph shouts. I cling to his back and stretch my neck to see Donnie and Leo stumbling out from the smoky passage with April—safely, by the looks of it. Another jarring pulse of pain moves through me, and I swallow hard and bite down to help stem the waves of agony emitting from my ankle—

"Hey!" Raph snaps, glancing back at me. "Get your teeth off my shell!"

"It hurts!" I cry angrily, frustrated and in pain. Obviously, I didn't know I was using the shell behind his neck as a pain-reliever, but he's the one who busted my foot, so I should be allowed to do what I want at this point.

"That doesn't mean you can sink your teeth into my—"

"Mikey, Raph!" Leo shouts, waving us down. Raph picks up the pace, hurdling a pile of scraps and reaching our brothers.

Leo's eyes widen. "What's wrong with Mikey?" he asks, panicked.

"His foot got caught in some of the rubble," Raph explains, panting as he shifts my body enough for Leo to see my ankle. His eyes narrow.

"It's swelling pretty bad," he mutters. "You okay, Mikey?"

It takes everything I am to keep from bawling like a baby. "No!" I whine, my face bunching up in an effort to stifle the awful throbbing. "My foot just got snapped in half, dude!"

"It's your ankle," Leo corrects in a tone that downplays my flustered state. "And you'll be fine. We just have to get it bandaged, which we'll do as soon as we get home."

"Where's the nut-job?" Raph snarls, whirling around to glare behind us.

"The idiot got tangled up in the mess he made of the ceiling," Leo bites. "He just started smashing everything—practically killed us eight different times—but now he's just stuck back there 'cause he can't move around all the rubble."

Raph scoffs. "Well, at least the Kraang are too stupid to be an actual threat."

"Yeah," Leo growls. "Tell that to April when she regains consciousness. And to half the city."

Raph's eyes soften and he looks to Donnie, who hasn't said a word. "She okay, Donnie?"

Donnie barely glances up at us. "I don't know," he says quietly. "I mean, she's breathing, but I have no idea what they were doing to her… All those tubes…" He wipes away some of the bloody spots on her arms where they had to rip the cords out. "We'll just have to wait for her to wake up."

Another crash sounds from the war zone of a hallway. Leo sighs.

"We can do that  _after_  we escape the freaky alien ship," he mutters. "Come on, the corridor we came in through is that way." He looks at me for a moment. "Mikey, can you walk at all?"

I frown. "What part of 'broken foot' do you not understand?"

"It's your  _ankle_  and it was just a question!" he snaps. "Raph's gonna pass out if he has to run all over this thing with you on his back—"

"I'm fine, Leo," Raph snarls defensively. "I can do this."

Leo holds his gaze for an intensely awkward moment before grunting.

"Fine, fine—but we've gotta move fast. Who knows when that thing could get loose?"

And just to answer his question—because as we've learned, every bad guy ever will try to answer those kinds of questions as soon as we ask them—the floor vibrates with movement and another scream splits the air. And my head.

"Guess that answers that!" Leo growls. "Let's go!"

* * *

 


	3. Leaving Him Behind

* * *

 

_**Present time…** _

{Leo}

"No!" Donnie shouts, stomping his foot in refusal. "We're not leaving you here!"

I stare him down and open my mouth to argue, but Raph butts in with his infamous attitude.

"You're nuts if you think we'd actually let you go down with this thing!" he snaps.

My nostrils flare with breath. They're not making this any easier…

"Look," I start firmly, "Mikey can barely walk and April's out cold! We can't stay here any longer— _you_ can't stay here any longer! If you guys don't get out now, we'll all be dead, and everything we've done won't mean a thing!"

"But Leo—"

"Get out!" I yell, waving my katanas. "Now!"

Raph steps towards me, his eyes burning, his teeth bared. "You idiot—"

But I cut him off when I point my blade at him. "That's an  _order_ , Raph."

He stops, and I can see his eyes waver as he stares at me in disbelief. He swallows, scared and angry. His hands are shaking.

Mikey limps against the wall for balance. I'm trying not to look at him; trying not to let their reactions weigh my heart down any further. I can't let them talk me out of this.

_…The only thing of importance is that you complete your mission._

"Leo…we can't just leave you here, bro," Mikey whimpers.

_No matter what you have to sacrifice…_

I swallow hard and let my gaze fall on my brothers, forcing myself to look them all in the eye for the last time.

… _Or who._

Something breaks in my chest. Something deep and important and fragile. I close my eyes, struggling to regain my composure, to shove down all the feelings of fear and uncertainty eating me alive. My body tenses, my fingers curling around the hilts of my katanas. And when I open my eyes, I've gone cold.

"I'm not giving you a choice."

And with that, I turn on my heels and go charging across the room, using my momentum and the bent panels as footholds as I scale up the wall. I leap for the ceiling, bringing my swords around in a swift arch that slices right through the first set of conduits. I drop down as the sparks pour around me, and the air is lit and thick with the energy I've cut loose.

Raph pulls Mikey out of the way, and Donnie steps back, holding April close to his chest in fear.

The electrical system pops and bursts, the wiring and cords along the walls catching into flames as the purple sparks continue to shower the room. Smoke begins to seep from beneath the walls and ceiling covers.

I hear Donnie curse and push Raph back as I run for the next set of conduits. Up the wall, through the air, swords raised, and  _SHEEE!_

I split them in half. This time the system cracks, spitting sparks and fire and smoke. I hit the ground and roll out of the way as one of the massive cords falls loose from the ceiling, trailing destruction after it.

I can hear my brothers arguing somewhere behind me, but I've made a complete mess of the electrical systems, so no matter how much Donnie may protest my actions, I've given them no choice but to escape before the whole thing blows. I whirl around and glare at them, my heart skipping beats in my chest. They need to get out! Why on earth are they still standing around?! What're they doing—

But my thoughts are broken by the horrid shriek of Kraang Prime. I grimace at the sound and turn to face the direction of the scream, keeping my back to my family. They better get out now, because I won't be able to protect them from what's about to come.

My breath comes quick and shallow, and my mind is racing. I can hear Raph calling after me, shouting, angry, desperate, and confused. His voice is becoming a little more distant with each second, which means Donnie and Mikey must be pulling him towards the pod.

I'm trying to ignore the aching in my chest. The weight of it all will kill me if I let myself feel it for even a second. I can't be afraid. I can't second-guess my decision, not now. I have to do this…for them.

"LEO!" Raph screams my name, and it sends fractures down my being.

I swallow hard and take a step—away from my family, away from myself. My hands have begun to shake as the flames lick and hiss at the tunnel and the screech of Kraang Prime gets ever closer.

"Don't you dare!" he cries, his voice raw and bleeding and wasted. "Don't you dare leave us alone!"

My jaw clenches and something hot runs down the sides of my face. Because he's right. I may be saving their lives, but I'm taking something else away from them. I'm breaking our family apart…and leaving them to pick up the pieces.

A pitiful gasp fills my lungs, and I have to grit my teeth to stifle the sob that wrenches through my chest. I want it all to stop. I want the world to fall away so I can wake up and be where I was yesterday when my heart wasn't being ripped to shreds and the fear wasn't filling my lungs like water.

I wish I couldn't hear him crying after me. I wish that they had just left the moment I told them to, so I wouldn't be hurting so much, so I wouldn't be torn in half, so the words he's screaming out of fear, rage, and pain wouldn't be the last thing I'll ever hear from any of them.

And I wish I didn't have to do this.

Somewhere in the chaos, the sound of a pod activating catches my ear. With trembling legs, I allow myself to turn around, just for a moment, just to see them one last time before I lose everything I've ever had. I see the pod at the end of the hallway, with sparks and the light of the fires gleaming off the glass shield as it seals itself shut. Raph's shouting has become muffled, and my family becomes a blur behind the smoke and my own tears. And I stand there, waiting to watch my only home disappear.

~T~

{Raph}

"LEO!" I'm in hysterics. I can't see him anymore, and the interior of the orb has begun to activate as Donnie punches at the keyboard with one hand while simultaneously trying to keep me from smashing through the glass with the other.

"Raph, stop it!" he snaps. But I can hear the cracks in his voice, the fractures in his words. Mikey tries to pull me back again, but I swat his arms away, seething.

"We can't leave him to die!" I scream. "Open this thing, Donnie! We have to help him—he needs us!"

But Donnie slams his palm down on a large purple button, and all the sudden, the pod comes to life, and a robotic voice begins to speak through the auditory system. I'm not fluent in Kraang, but it doesn't take a genius to know that this thing's counting down. My heart skips and trips and breaks into a million pieces that shatter and pierce all of my insides. The tears move in hot streaks down my face, and I can't stop shaking.

How could they do this? How could they just sit back and let Leo make this kind of decision?

"Y-You're just gonna let him die?" I whisper, breaking. And then my voice jumps into a splintered shout. "You're just gonna leave him there while we run away with our tails between our legs!?"

Donnie swallows, but his eyes are hard. Just like Leo's were. Even Mikey has steeled himself over.

I stare at them, heaving for breath, incredulous. How can they all just stop feeling? Why am I the only one who's losing it?

The pod whirs to life, buzzing beneath us, and I lose myself in the panic.

"He's our brother!" I cry desperately, choking in the lump that's quickly forming in my throat. "He's our _brother_ —"

But a high-pitched series of beeps screams overhead, and before my heart can pump another ounce of blood, we're knocked back as the escape pod launches from the interior of the ship. The force of it slams all of us down against the seats and the floor, jarring our bones and catching our breath in our throats. Our world is stolen by darkness for a moment as the pod shoots through the closed tunnel, and in that instant, we're all left to the whirring and clicking of machinery with our hearts beating out of our chests.

And when the pod exits the ship, daylight floods the glass shield, blinding us. We're shot through the air, suspended hundreds of feet above ground and moving a thousand miles an hour until—

_WHAM!_

~T~

{Leo}

The pod suddenly shoots back, vanishing down the tunnel and out of sight. In a single instant, they're gone.

And I'm alone.

The tears are coming down my face in silent streams, but I keep my body clenched against the agony of it all. I can't fall apart. Not yet.

My resolve freezing itself over, I turn back to face my death, numb to my core. I have nowhere else to run, nothing left to do but bring this thing down in a burst of flames. The Kraang will be defeated, and I'll die.

It seems so simple in my head. A single understanding with no way around it. But the damage it's inflicting on my soul is something else entirely, and I have to keep myself frozen stiff to hold those emotions back, to keep myself from melting and burning into nothing.

I take slow steps forward, knowing that Kraang Prime is just down the corridor, screaming and thrashing and no doubt tearing half the ship apart. And as I go, I can't help but to drown in a single, flawed concept of mine.

I always thought dying a hero would be something beautiful. Something glorious. What greater honor is there than to die for the ones you love?

But now that I'm here, I'm finding it to be something entirely different from what I've always imagined it to be. It isn't beautiful, and it isn't glorious. It's terrifying, painful, and lonely. I don't feel brave or strong; I don't feel lifted by notions of honor and duty. I'm afraid, and I desperately wish with all that I am that I had climbed into that escape pod and vanished with my brothers. All these selfish thoughts flood my mind and consume me as I move to commit the most selfless action I could ever commit in all of my young life.

As I walk down the hallway, surrounded on all sides by flames, sparks, carnage, and smoke, I do so alone. I do so knowing that this will be the last thing I'll ever see, the last memory my mind will grasp before I fall away to nothing.

I don't feel like a hero. I just feel like someone who's about to die.

I stop where I am, closing my eyes for a moment and focusing on the deep, periodic vibrations shaking the floor beneath me. Everything else seems to fade out—the crackling of the fire, the sizzling of the sparks, the heat and the heavy smoke—all of it is gone. Devoured by my concentration, something that's fueled only by my need to make this all worth something. Because if I'm going to die, then my enemy is, too.

It only takes a good thirty seconds for Kraang Prime's contorted face to appear through the haze around the corner. He steps into the main hallway, facing me, about a hundred yards away. But those seconds feel like eternity stretched fifty times over, and by then, I'm already dead on the inside.

Our eyes lock. I step forth, bracing myself and holding my blades out before me in a steady, focused manner. I listen to the rush of my blood, the thundering of my heart, and then I close my eyes. There's a single plea on my lips. One last prayer, and as I whisper it, I desperately wish I could will the words to reach my family.

"Forgive me."

My eyes snap open, and I'm gone.

I let out a scream and charge Kraang Prime, my katanas arched overhead, my blood pumping, my mind bent on my last mission with such ferocity and focus that I lose myself in it completely.

_Forgive me—_

I drop into the black fog of adrenaline and let my instincts reign over my mind.

_Forgive me for dying—_

I skirt in a zigzag motion from wall to wall, my eyes catching a larger conduit system where the hallways merge—right above Kraang Prime's head.

_And for leaving you alone._

Hot beams of plasma are shot in my direction, searing with heat as they melt through the walls and flooring. I tumble out of the way, leaping and dodging stream after stream of laser blasts. The infrastructure begins to fall apart all around me—beams loosen, boards melted, metals eaten through. Smoke continues to rise and something short-circuits behind me, erupting with a small, crackling explosion that blows one of the walls clean out.

I grit my teeth as I come into close range, and just as he shoots another torrent of hot death at me, I throw myself to the side, rolling over and over before popping back onto my feet and racing towards the opposite wall. The curving of the tunnel makes it difficult to scale the sides, but luckily, with so much destruction, the wreckage proves of use. Instead of busted panels, I lunge into the air and snatch some cables hanging limply from the ceiling. My body sways and my feet hit the wall, and I start to pull myself up, up, up—

Another blast. This one's much closer and I have to push off of the wall and swing out of the way. The force of the explosion down below me is enough to shake my grip, and I slide a good two feet down the cable when some of the exposed wires sticking out of the severed end touch my forearm—

And it's like lightning shooting up through me. I cry out as my muscles threaten to go limp from the shock. It takes all that I am to hold on, and even more to continue to climb. I grit my teeth and let out a groan of pain, but I keep moving. My body is jumping with the electricity that's just flashed through me, and I'm lucky it wasn't enough to strike me dead on the spot.

I go, faster this time, fueled by adrenaline and now the shock of being zapped by the inner wires. And in a few seconds, I get high enough to push off the wall with my feet and launch myself towards the exposed conduit system. I bring my body into a twist as I'm flung into the air, and my swords are brought round with me. With the momentum and the force of it all, I stab my katanas into the system, effectively splicing the cords with a single blow.

With my blades still lodged in the insulating covers of the power cords, I pull them as I fall, thrusting my arms forth in a downward position as I aim for Kraang Prime's head. The cords are ripped from their place in the ceiling, sparks flying, and I come crashing down on the robotic body with a brutal amount of force and a massive expanse of exposed electricity.

It takes only a second. A second for me to fall, carrying a kajillion watts of power with me—a second for me to cry out and stab my blades down into the metal flesh encasing Kraang Prime. The reaction is far greater and much more powerful than I could've ever anticipated, and in an instant, the air splits with a resonating crack as the conduit system sends crushing swells of electricity down through the robotic suit, igniting a series of explosions that send me flying back in a tidal wave of heat and pain—

And in that instant, my world is consumed by a flash of white light, and I'm gone.

~T~

{Raph}

The screech of crumpling metal splits my head in two as our pod collides with the East River. Glass shatters, spraying us like the water that rushes in, ice cold, and spills over everything in a split second. The frigid temperature is enough to put me in shock as our pod is swallowed up by the waves.

Panic. It's the only thing my brain can identify as we're pulled down by the river. Holding breath I didn't have in the first place, I'm struggling to get my body to respond to the frantic commands my mind is shooting out. My limbs are flailing, knocking against the confines of the orb in a desperate attempt to somehow punch my way out as we sink lower into the depths. Bubbles are rushing past, and the salt water burns my eyes, but I can make out the blurred shapes of Donnie, Mikey, and April—who still appears to be unconscious—as they, too, kick restlessly at the sphere's walls. The glass shield has been busted through by the impact, but the force of the sinking orb keeps us stuck along the floor of the vessel, helpless. My chest is burning like someone filled my lungs with gasoline and tossed a match down my throat. My thoughts are becoming more rapid, but broken, my mind obviously responding to the oxygen deprivation. I kick and struggle and twist in the thick chill of the water, but my movements are getting slower by the millisecond.

I feel a hand grab my arm, and though my eyes aren't sending me clear images, I can tell it's Donnie, and he's stilling my movements. My instincts tell me to continue to flop around like a fish, but I force myself to calm down for what seems like an eternity before he quickly tugs me up. By then, the bubbles have stopped. I fight to keep from passing out as we start to swim from the surface, suddenly freed from whatever invisible force was holding us down. All three of us kick and crawl upwards, our lungs no doubt about to burst. Donnie's having the hardest time, having to carry April and all, so Mikey and I have to push him as we go.

We seem so far under, and I feel like I'm going to die before I can reach the surface. I don't understand how my body hasn't given out yet, but I'm not about to question it, so I keep going and going until suddenly—

The water breaks around us. Sunlight washes over our wet skin, and all three of us take a huge gulp of air while simultaneously coughing up buckets of water.

"We're—alive!" Mikey croaks, spitting up fluid in-between his enthusiastic words. And not a moment later, a rush of force beneath us moves as our escape pod abruptly bursts to the surface as well. Upside down.

Salty spray hits our faces from the sudden eruption, but we all start swimming for the vessel, and after a frustrating minute of struggling to flip it over, we do. Water spills from the edges, sloshing over the sides as we climb in. The glass shield has been completely obliterated, and the seats are torn and soaked through. We start trying to scoop the remaining water out as best as we can, which Mikey remedies by suggesting that we rock it from side to side until the water spills out on its own.

Exhausted, beaten, and chilled to the bone, we all collapse against the wet seats, breathing hard beneath the soft sunlight and crisp morning air.

And it takes me a few minutes to become aware of the pain in my body. Groaning, I blink heavily and look down at my arms and legs to see little shards of glass protruding from my flesh. Blood has begun to ooze around the sides of the wounds. I curse under my breath and start to brush off the smaller pieces. I glance at my brothers to see them sporting similar wounds, but not nearly as numerous as mine.

"Careful…pulling them…out," Donnie pants, hanging his head back against the seat in fatigue. "T-The salt water… Pour some…on the lacerations…"

I swallow hard and give a slight nod as I start to pick out the glass, one by one. My skin's so cold, I can hardly feel it, but that doesn't mean I like looking at it.

"We're…okay…right?" Mikey asks breathlessly. "Everyone's…alive?"

Donnie pulls April closer to him, most likely in an attempt to warm her, but that doesn't exactly work when you yourself are soaking wet and freezing.

"She's still breathing…" he whispers. I watch him for a moment, seeing that most of the glass in his skin sticks out along his outer arm and leg as if he shielded her from it. Because there's not a piece in her.

"How's your ankle, Mikey?" Donnie asks quietly.

"I forgot about it…until now," he groans. "But I'm too cold to feel it."

I reach out the pod and scoop some salt water into my palm, sprinkling it over the cuts in my skin. It burns a little, and I wince, but I'm sure it'd be a lot worse if I weren't so numb.

No one says anything for the longest time. At least, that's what it feels like. We all just sit there and breathe, picking glass from our skin and trying to find relief in the faint warmth of the sun. And for an eternity, that's all that registers in my mind.

Until…

A flash of blinding white light emits from behind us.

_BOOM!_

The blast is louder than anything I've ever heard. It shakes my bones. The explosion is like a drumbeat inside of my chest, and for a moment, I'm honestly scared that my heart is going to burst from sheer violence of it.

But another series of smaller eruptions go off, each one another blow to my eardrums. My head is ringing with a high-pitched whine, and all other sound has been stolen from me. In those moments, the world stops and ends and begins again.

The wave of heat is next, washing over the entire area with brisk force. We all turn and watch the Technodrome, lit up in flames, smoke and wreckage spilling from every side as it shudders, breaks, and crashes into the ocean below it.

Something so huge plummeting into the water doesn't just make a splash—it makes tidal waves. Our pod is rocked back in the water, which makes all of us lose our balance and stumble into the sides as the massive swells carry us further back. It doesn't take my stomach more than twenty seconds of constant rocking to throw in the towel, so I cling to the edge of our little ship and heave my guts out into the water.

The waves finally settle, but not after I empty my stomach contents out another few times. I go limp against the wall, spitting a string of bile from my mouth and grimacing at the acidic taste. I wipe the back of my hand across my lips and let out a shaky breath as a weight like a stone is placed over my chest.

I swallow and turn back to see that the Technodrome is nowhere in sight. It's been dragged down into the depths…bringing my brother down with it.

A silence so tense, it's permeable, comes over us. There's only the sloshing of the waves against the outside of our pod as the waters quiet down, and for a long time, that's all there is.

Mikey's the first to say anything because, at this point, I've got nothing left.

"Leo…" he whispers.

And that's all he says. Just his name carried on the pleading, aching whisper of a broken-hearted little brother. The sound of it is so quiet, but it's like a sledgehammer hitting me in the gut. We all stand there and stare out at the horizon where the Technodrome was, just moments ago, holding our last hope, our only prayer. Our brother.

I collapse on myself, burying my face in my hands…

And I start to cry.

* * *

 


	4. Broken Family

* * *

 

{Raph}

It's been seven months since Leo died. Seven months since we watched the Technodrome explode in flames and drop into the ocean, carrying our oldest brother down with it. Seven months…and it still doesn't feel real.

To be honest, I haven't even really noticed the time passing. Every day just melts into the next one. We're all just drifting along, aimless. Broken.

We hardly saw Splinter for over a month after what happened. He stayed in his room, shut behind those sliding doors. There were no words of comfort exchanged, no wise leader to lift our spirits, no father there to hold us together while we crumbled. Part of me will always hate him for that. For not being there when we needed him the most. He kept saying he was meditating, but we all could hear him crying at night when he thought we were asleep.

But who could possibly sleep after what we had been through?

Casey and April still come around every so often, but the visits are dwindling. I guess they know there's nothing either of them could do. Casey tried, though—he nagged me for months on end to hang out, to go topside and get back to what we were doing before. Part of me felt awful for constantly turning him down, but the other part was in so much pain that I honestly didn't care. He eventually stopped asking, and like everyone else, I began to see him less and less. April lasted a little longer, but she had her own problems with her dad. Being kidnapped and experimented on by an alien race doesn't exactly leave one off in the best mental state. We still don't know what the Kraang were after when they took April, and she doesn't remember what happened to her in the Technodrome. It doesn't matter now, though. Those creeps are gone, thanks to Leo. Everything's gone because of him.

All of us fell apart; each in our own way. We were all alone, lost in individual worlds of pain and grief. Donnie stayed shut in his lab, trying desperately to distract himself from his emotions through his work. But he ended up spending a majority of his time doing what we all were doing: crying. Sitting in the silence, staring off into space, forgetting about the world for hours on end until reality would tear us away from our dreamscapes.

Mikey tried his hardest for two straight weeks to cheer everyone up. He didn't even do it in his usual, annoying manner. No pranks, no nonsense, just pure-hearted attempts to make his brothers feel better. But not even his joking, bright self could lighten the gloom that had settled over our home; over our hearts. He eventually gave up and succumbed to the same drifting routine we had all found ourselves in by then. Just getting through each day by hoping that tomorrow would be better.

It never was.

...

It's late. I don't know how late, but it's dark and everyone's asleep. I'm lying there in bed, staring at the wall, numb. I think I was crying—the skin on my cheeks feels stiff like tears have dried—but I don't remember.

I've gotten used to that, though; not feeling anything, not remembering. I'm just empty, and yet even when I think I can't possibly cry any more than I have, I prove myself wrong.

I don't understand why I can't pull myself together—I don't understand why I don't even want to try. Why is it easier to sit here and wallow in my pain? Why can't I move forward?

Because moving on means accepting that it happened. It means accepting that he's actually dead and that he's never going to come back. Moving on means letting go…and I can't do that. Not now—maybe not ever.

But I still lie here every night and tell myself that I'll get better, that I'll move on. I can't stay like this forever, right? I can't just sit here and let the world spin on without me…no matter how much I may want to.

But then the morning comes, and when it does, I know that I'm just lying to myself. It's pointless—all of it. I'm not going to get better; I'm not going to move on. Because words will never be able to describe what it feels like to wake up knowing the room across the hall is empty now. Knowing there's one less chair at the kitchen table, one less voice echoing through the rooms, one less hand fighting for the remote or the last slice of pizza. Just one less. And the void that's eaten a hole through our world is like a fire—never satisfied, always burning, always taking more and more away from us. We already lost our brother, our leader—now we're losing each other. We don't speak. We don't fight. We don't do anything but sift through the day like zombies. Broken. Aimless, drifting. Dead.

Families are supposed to support one another; to lift each other up in times of pain and suffering. But our individual pain is like an infection, a cancer, eating us alive and moving on to the next person. We're all sick, all broken, all hurting. How can we lean on one another when we don't even have the strength to stand ourselves?

It's simple, really: We can't. We're going to be like this forever—stuck with an empty room, a missing chair, and a brother-sized hole in our chests where our hearts used to be.

~T~

{Mikey}

"Raph?" I whisper, poking my head through the door to his bedroom. It's dark and quiet. I don't know how late it is, but I know he's still up. He always is.

I try again, stepping carefully into his room. "Raph?" I spot him in his bed, facing the wall, his sheets pulled tight around him.

"What?" he grumbles hoarsely. I can tell by the sound of his voice that he was crying again.

"…I couldn't sleep," I say quietly. "Can I stay with you for a little bit?"

There's a tense moment of silence before he tugs the sheets up over his face.

"Go away, Mikey."

I stand there for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. Swallowing, I give a short nod.

"Okay…" I whisper, struggling to keep the pain of rejection from my voice. "Sorry. I'll…see you in the morning, I guess…"

He doesn't respond, so I step back from the door and shut it quietly behind me. I stand outside of his room for a moment, my bottom lip quivering slightly. It's not so much the fact that he's pushed me away every night—it's the fact that I know he needs someone too, but he's too stubborn to let any of us in. He's just being closed up, the way he always gets when he's upset. But we're all upset. Why does he have to shut us all out, like we aren't all going through the same thing?

I sniffle and walk for Donnie's room, knowing my older brother won't turn me away. I tap on the door a few times before letting myself in.

"…Donnie?" I whisper. I hear the sheets rustle as he rolls over to face me, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Can't sleep?" he mumbles drowsily. I nod and he immediately scoots over, patting his hand on the mattress. "Come here."

I shuffle over to the bed, sighing heavily as I climb up next to him.

Neither of us says anything as I get comfortable. He helps tug the blankets over the both of us and I bury my face in the pillow. And for a long time, we both lie there in the silence, our backs to one another.

"Donnie?" I whisper, my eyes beginning to burn. I listen to him lift his head and shift under the blankets.

"Yeah, Mikey?"

I swallow hard and pull the sheets up to shield my face. "…I miss Leo."

He gets quiet for a moment.

"Yeah…" His voice is hushed, broken. "I do too."

I wipe the tears from my cheeks and take in a shaky breath. "H-How are we supposed to do this without him?" I whimper. I can feel myself choking up, and I know I can't hold it back.

Donnie rolls over and throws an arm around me, pulling me into him.

"I don't know," he says quietly. "…But we'll figure it out…given time… We'll find a way to move on."

The lump in my throat makes it hard to speak without crying. "But…what if I don't want to move on?" I ask, my voice quivering. "How can we ever just keep living like it never happened? How are we supposed to get better? I just don't—I just don't get it—" I lose my words as a quiet sob closes my throat. I clench my jaw and shut my eyes tight enough to squeeze out another stream of tears, and I bury my face in my hands as I try not to break down. I feel Donnie's arm tighten around me.

"Hey," he whispers reassuringly. "It'll be okay, Mikey… We'll be alright…"

"No we won't!" I cry. "Don't you see what's happening? It's like—it's like we're not even a family anymore!" My chest heaves, and through my weeping, I start to hiccup. "Why'd he have to leave us?" I sob between breaths. "How could he just  _die_  and leave us here alone?"

He pulls me closer, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Mikey…" He sighs, listening to me as I sniffle and try to calm myself down.

"Mikey, sometimes…sometimes things happen, and we don't know why, and they don't always make sense…but they still happen. And no matter how much it hurts, eventually we have to move on…"

"B-But what if I can't?" I whimper. He pauses for a moment, sighing again.

"I miss him too, Mikey…and I'd give anything to see him again, to hear him yell at us for making a mess or quote his dorky Space Heroes show—I even miss hearing him and Raph argue. I-It feels like someone just reached into our lives and ripped him out, and now all we have is a hole where he used to be."

He lets out a quiet breath.

"He made his decision, and he knew it was the right one. We would've all died if he hadn't stayed behind…and he knew that. I guess my point is that Leo chose his fate, and no matter how much we miss him, the world isn't going to stop turning. We can't just sit around, hurting and wishing we could go back. Because we can't. And I know that if Leo were here, he'd be telling us all the same thing. He wouldn't want us to be broken like this…he'd want us to keep moving, to keep fighting, all the way till the end…just like he did."

I blink away at the tears gathering along the lower rims of my eyes, remembering the look in his eyes before we climbed in the escape pod. He was so sure, so ready to face the end alone. And I remember seeing that pain, too, when I told him that we couldn't leave him behind. His eyes wavered, and I saw the fear, the ache. He was scared to die…but he did it anyway. For his family.

I lie there for another minute, letting the memories, however painful, flood my mind. Just so I can see his face again; so I can see those blue eyes falling on me, shining, fierce, and deep.

"He was stronger than us," I whisper.

"Yeah…he was," Donnie says softly. "But he'd want us to be strong now."

I swallow past the lump in my throat and push my face into the pillow. Silence passes over us, and we both lie still and listen to the faint ticking of the clock in the corner as it counts down the seconds, constantly reminding us that time doesn't stop. Whether or not you're ready, it keeps going, and the world keeps turning, with or without you. I let my eyes close, focusing on the warmth of the brother beside me rather than the cold ache of the one we've lost. I snuggle as close as I can to him and let out a deep breath.

"…Thanks, Donnie…" I mumble. "For being here."

I can feel him smile against my shoulder and he hugs me tight.

"No problem, Mikey."

~T~

{Donnie}

I lie there in the dark, in the quiet, and I watch him as he falls asleep. He snores softly, curled up beside me, tucked away under the blankets just like when we were little. I smile as I watch his chest rise and fall with slow breath, but it's a sad smile. There's an ache down inside, and just when I think I won't feel it anymore, it comes back. A cold, hollow throb that spreads over my insides and cloaks my heart. I swallow and instinctively press my forehead against the side of his face, seeking comfort, warmth, assurance that there is more to this new life of ours than the pain. I have to focus on the ones I have right here, right now—the brother that's beside me—not the one that's not.

But in the darkness of the room, in the dim light cast by the clock in the corner, I can see the faint, nearly dried trail of tears down Mikey's cheeks. Tears for our brother, tears for our loss, and for what's to come.

It means the world that Mikey seeks comfort in me as much as I do in him. It means the world that even after all that's happened, we've only grown closer, pushed by our aching, our pain, our loss. Driven by the absence of one brother to cling to what remains. But it breaks me to hear him cry every night, to feel him curl up beside me and shake as he tries to hold it back. It breaks me to know how scared he is, how hurt he is, and there's nothing worse in all of the world than to see Mikey, the light and laughter of our lives, so broken and dejected.

Because it's been seven months of living without Leo. Seven months of drifting, our spirits waning as our hearts lay shattered on the floor. Seven months of this cold, hollow ache in my chest. It's like we're not even a family anymore—just a bunch of wounded souls under the same roof. And even though Master Splinter has shaken off the stupor of his grief, he isn't who he was before. I know that he regrets the first month he spent in isolation after the three of us staggered home without our leader. In our time of need, he was like a ghost; we would reach for him and pull back with nothing but wisps that slipped through our fingers. At the time, I was angry with him for not being the support we so desperately needed—but now, I understand. After all, the graveyard of his heart had just expanded—a wife, a daughter, and now a son. I don't know of anyone who has suffered as much as our master.

He's trying, though. Trying to pull his sons together. We've been training every morning and every night, just like we used to. But I can tell he wants to push us beyond our limits, because the training has been more difficult than ever. Maybe he wants us to move on, or maybe he's just hoping that we can all drown out our emotional suffering through physical toil. Whatever he's trying to do, and however strongly he wills us to move forward, I don't see how any of us can bear to take another step knowing that it will be without Leo.

So we've been here, training, trying to get back to normal, and yet we're no better off than the day we watched the Technodrome burst into flames.

The thought brings the image back to my mind, and in an instant, the tears spring forth. I blink rapidly, trying to force down the emotions like I have for months, but whenever I remember the look on his face, and the way my heart dropped when we watch the ship sink into the ocean, I lose it. It all comes rushing back, night after night, and I…I can't—

I pull Mikey closer, burying my face in the crook of his neck and concentrating on the rhythm of his breath while Master Splinter's words ring through my head.

_Focus on what you have…not on what you've lost._

I let out a shaky breath and do just that. Mikey's warm against me—warm enough to chase that ache a little further away. I cling to him like a shelter in a storm, like he's the only thing keeping me tethered to the ground while the winds rage and howl. I listen to his heart beat—a little flutter, like a butterfly. Soft and innocent and trusting. I sigh against him, making a beat from the soft thumps of his heart and the faint ticking of the clock.

It'll be morning soon. Another day to get through, another day of noticing the details, the things missing from our home. Another day of waking up and hearing faint echoes of Leo calling us for breakfast or for training, like a ghost whispering through the walls. Those echoes are getting quieter every morning…and I'm scared that one day, they'll stop for good. I'm scared that I won't be able to remember what his voice sounds like, or his laughter, or that I'll forget the gleam he'd get in his eyes when he got excited. I'm terrified that my brother will truly slip away forever, both in spirit and in heart. And I don't think I could handle that. It's hard enough knowing he's no longer physically here with us. It's hard enough knowing that he's never coming back and that from here on out, everything we do, we'll do it without him. Memory is all we have left—he lives on through our stories, through our hearts and minds. But I'm afraid that we're losing that, too. After all, our family has crumbled around us. We're not who we were. We're all just broken pieces, lying around and waiting for someone else to put us back together.

But lying here with my little brother, I understand why Leo did what he did, and I know that if the day came for me to make the same decision, I would. There are things worth more than your own life. Leo knew that. He's dead, and we may be broken, but we are alive. Because of him.

And I know that if there's any hope for healing beyond this broken home, it has to blossom from within; from one of us. I know Raph's not going to do it—he's too busy drowning in his grief. And Mikey, despite all of his good-natured efforts, has always been the support, not the leader. That just leaves me, and I've never thought of myself as much of a leader either. But someone has to do something, and I can't wait around for somebody else to make a move that I'm capable of making right now. If Leo's really gone for good, he'd want someone to step up and take over—no, he'd  _expect_  it. I have to do something…for the sake of my family.

I look down at Mikey again and feel a familiar and fierce tugging on my heart. It won't be easy to do this without Leo, but we no longer have a choice. This is what we are now, and this is what we have. We have to do as Master Splinter instructs and take our eyes off of the past. Leo would want us to…and that's reason enough.

I nod to myself, feeling a new resolve burn fresh and bright as it's molded in my mind. I pull Mikey closer so that his face rests in the crook of my neck. I lean my jaw on his head and close my eyes, willing the sleep to come. Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow, we'll step onto the road to becoming a real family again. We'll pick ourselves up, and somehow, we'll get through.

Leo's dead, but he's not gone. As long as we're alive, as long as we're moving forward, he's still right beside us, watching over us like he always has.

And we'll find a way to make that enough.

* * *

 


	5. It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better

* * *

 

{Mikey}

"Come on, Raph!" Donnie shouts across the alleyway. "You can't throw in the towel just because you're upset—"

"Shut up!" Raph snarls, whirling around to face the two of us. I stand back and watch my brothers, already sensing the rising tension in the air. Maybe this was a bad idea…

"Why don't you two just go if you wanna patrol so bad?" Raph says sharply. "It's not like you need me here or something."

"I thought you liked going out on patrol," Donnie argues. "Busting heads or whatever. Besides, we've been stuck down there for over a year now, Raph—it's time we get back to the way we used to be."

Raph's eyes narrow. I can feel the emotions rippling off of him, but there's so many that I can only snatch a few to identify. Rage is there—when is it not?—and there's pain, too. Something bitter, something resentful. Something hollow and empty. He's fighting his own thoughts, and there's so much turmoil inside of him. I wonder if he can see it as well as the rest of us.

"We're  _not_  what we used to be," he spits, fists curling at his sides. "And you're  _not_  Leo, so stop trying to act like it!"

Donnie looks offended, but he quickly covers it with his reasoning.

"Don't you think I know that?" he snaps. "You've only reminded me every day for the past five months!"

"Obviously, it hasn't been enough," Raph growls. "You've been at it constantly, telling us what to do, taking over training, being Splinter's little favorite—just like Leo! But you're not him—you'll  _never_  be him—"

Donnie steps in defensively, cutting off the sharp tone in Raph's voice with one of his own.

"I'm not trying to be Leo, meathead! I'm trying to pull us back together, which is a shell of a lot more than I can say for you! All  _you've_  been doing is pouting in the corner like some kind of child!"

Raph growls. Donnie just poked the heaving mass of bubbling anger with a verbal stick, and now it's gonna blow up in our faces. Man, I should've just stayed home.

Raph doesn't even waste his breath on words. He just goes straight for Donnie like a derailed train, with all the fires of hell burning in his green eyes.

Five months ago, Donnie would've yelped and ran out of the way. But now, he doesn't even budge. He's learned how to channel that big brain of his into fighting, just like Splinter has always wanted him to. He calculates every movement with precision and clarity, and it's made him one terrifying ninja. He knows every nerve to hit, every weak spot in the bones or joints or muscles—it's like we're just walking anatomy models to him. A few days ago during training, he got me to try and punch him in a way that made all the muscles in my arm cramp up, and he didn't even have to hit me. He used my own body, my own thoughts and moves, against me.

Leo would've been proud.

I stand back and watch them as they fight. The sound of them colliding is like thumps of flesh smacking into each other. Donnie bends Raph's arm back, but Raph twists sharply, yanking out of Donnie's grip and swinging his fist upward. He manages to get a hit, snapping Donnie's head to the side with the force of the blow. But Donnie's gotten good at recovering fast, and he uses the momentum of being punched against Raph, ducking and grabbing Raph by the wrist and effectively flipping him over his shell.

And in an effort to block it all out, my mind starts to drift.

They've been fighting constantly for months now, and I don't know if I like that much more than the awkward silence from the months before. I mean, at least now Raph is around us, but him and Donnie fight even worse than when Leo was here. And it's not just through words—it's gotten to a point where it's almost always physical, and it's not just the brotherly type of fighting that Leo and Raph would get into. It's violent and aggressive. Split lips, black eyes, bruises and welts the size of my fist—it's insane. Last week was so bad that Master Splinter had to split them up and send them each into a corner for the backflip punishment. The only reason they didn't fight for a few days after that was because they could hardly move.

I watch Donnie slam Raph into the ground again. Raph's getting angrier with every blow, and he's starting to get sloppy. Donnie counts on that. A few more punches are exchanged before they both just settle for wrestling one another into the ground. I sit there idly, fighting the urge to get between them. I tried that a few times before, and it doesn't work. But sometimes, I can't help but to intervene. I hate it when they do this.

I'm trying not to pay attention to the scrapes and cuts they're both receiving. It's still so weird, seeing Donnie fight like this. Something clicked in his head that night we talked about Leo being gone, and ever since, he's been trying his absolute best to push us forward. He does all the things Leo used to do, like waking us up in the morning and nagging us about not cleaning our rooms—Master Splinter even lets him train us. I thought that Donnie had snapped; that his grief had driven him to  _become_  Leo. But now I know he's just trying to fill that void in any way he can. He doesn't just want us to get better—he wants himself to get better, too. He's not copying Leo, he's following in his footsteps. He's pushing himself to be everything he can be. For us.

And I don't know why Raph hates it so much.

"You done with your little temper tantrum?" Donnie growls, breathless. They're both on their feet now, their faces smudged with grime from throwing each other around. Donnie's got a nasty bruise forming under his eye, and Raph's lip is bleeding again.

"I'm gonna…break your shell…across my knee," Raph pants. His legs are shaking a little, but he keeps his fists up like a barricade between him and Donnie, and his eyes are still burning.

Donnie growls deep in the back of his throat and lunges forward fast enough to catch Raph off guard and slams him up against the dumpster by the wall. The thud of Raph's shell hitting the metal box makes me flinch a little. I wish they'd just stop… I want to go home.

"What's wrong with you, Raph?" Donnie snarls, incredulous. Raph tries to break free from Donnie's grip, but our eldest has him securely locked between him and the dumpster, making him even angrier.

"What's wrong with me?" he repeats. "My brother's dead, that's what's wrong with me! And you two are over here playing Follow the Leader like it didn't even happen—"

" _Our_  brother," Donnie growls lowly, pressing his bo staff against Raph's chest in a threatening manner. "He was  _our_  brother, Raph."

Raph scoffs and shoves the staff back like he isn't the least bit afraid, which is weird because Donnie's gotten pretty scary lately.

"Don't give me that crap," he bites. "It's your fault he's dead!"

Donnie takes a small step back, legitimately put off. "What?"

"We didn't have to leave him behind!" he shouts. "But you—you and Mikey—you held me back, you made me leave him when we could've left  _together_ —"

"Don't you  _dare_  pin this on us," Donnie snaps. "You think we wanted to leave? You think we wanted to let him die?" Donnie knocks Raph back against the dumpster, and I can practically see the anger smoldering off of the both of them. But at the moment, I'm more focused on the pain inside of my gut. Because Raph blames us. He blames me, he blames Donnie.

He thinks it's our fault that Leo's dead.

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it!" Raph spits.

"We were following orders, Raph!" Donnie's got the staff between them now, holding Raph back. The dumpster creaks a little at the weight as they both push against each other. "Not like I'd expect you to know what that is—"

"I could've saved him!" Raph shouts. He manages to rip the sai from his belt and lashes out at Donnie, slicing a good three inches across his shoulder. My heart jumps a little at the sight of blood flicking out from the deep wound, and I instinctively grab my nunchucks, bracing myself to get between them.

"He didn't have to die!" Raph tries to close in and get another shot. "If you two didn't drag me off into that escape pod, I would've—"

But Donnie's fast, and he catches the sideguards of Raph's sai with his staff in a split second. With a skilled twist, he tears both of the blades right out of Raph's clenched hands and sends them clattering across the alleyway.

Raph's on the ground not a moment later, pinned beneath Donnie's foot, staff poised just inches over his neck.

"You would've what?" Donnie growls, breathing hard through gritted teeth. Blood's trailing down his arm and dripping onto the asphalt. "What would you have done, Raph? Died? Gotten the rest of us killed? Prevented Leo from doing his job and blowing up the Technodrome? _What_?"

Raph's chest is heaving, and I can't tell if he's mad or if he's going to cry or both. I watch them nervously, my stomach twisting slightly from staring at the red oozing from my brother's arm. My chest aches.

_Please stop…_

"Get off of me!" Raph cries, twisting and try to swat Donnie's staff away. But we all know he's reached that point where he gets so emotional, he's practically useless.

"Answer my question, Raph!"

_I just want to go home._

"I don't know!" he screams. "I don't know what I would've done, but I wouldn't have left him there to die while we ran away! I wouldn't have done that!" His chest is heaving, and his eyes are blurred, and his next words come out choked by the sob clutching his throat. "It's  _your fault_!"

And somehow, maybe through Donnie's hesitation, maybe through rage, Raph manages to kick Donnie in the knee and twist up on his shell. Donnie backpedals, caught off guard, and Raph tears the staff from his hand, twirling it overhead. I see the blade flip out the end, glimmering in the faint moonlight, and I don't have time to think about what I'm doing before my legs move underneath me. I fling my kusarigama forth; the chains wrap around the staff, and I yank down, tearing it out of Raph's hands before he can hurt Donnie again.

But that just makes Raph even angrier, and before I can really process what just happened, his fist flashes across my vision and sends me tumbling over the asphalt.

My body stops rolling when I hit the trash cans along the opposite wall. The metal clangs upon impact, and I grit my teeth, feeling the sting of skin being peeled back from the rough ground. My face feels puffy and warm, like heat buzzing through my head and beneath my skin. I groan with a shaky breath as the shock filters in and out of my system.

"Mikey!" They both shout after me, but Donnie shoves Raph out of the way and blocks him from my path.

"What the heck was that?" Donnie snaps, standing in front of me protectively. I drag myself off the ground and sit up against the trash cans, gingerly touching the swelling heat on the side of my face. There's blood on my fingers when I pull my hand back.

"I-I didn't mean to!" Raph exclaims. "It was an accident! I didn't think he'd get in the way—"

"Save it," Donnie spits. "And you know what? We  _don't_  need you. Get back to the lair."

Raph doesn't budge until Donnie takes a firm step in his direction.

" _Now,_  Raph."

I hear him sigh, audibly frustrated as he shuffles off down the alleyway. Donnie waits until he hears the manhole cover clank and thud back into place before he turns and kneels down beside me.

"You okay, Mikey?" he whispers, turning my face in his hand to examine the wound.

I wince—the adrenaline's starting to recede, and the pain comes washing in. Man, Raph's got one heck of a right hook.

"I'm fine," I mutter. His brow furrows a little, which makes me nervous. I hope Raph didn't bust up my face completely, 'cause if I'm not the cute one, I don't know what I'll do.

"Your lip's split." He tilts my head up, and I hiss in discomfort. "You might need stitches. But I don't think he broke anything…"

I push his hand away with a small grunt and stagger to my feet. He watches me for a moment, obviously concerned.

"Mikey," he starts, but I cut him off, unable to hide the pain and frustration from my voice. And it doesn't help that my whole head is throbbing now.

"Why do you guys always have to fight?" My voice quivers slightly from the pain, from the shock—from everything that's happened in the past year. "Why can't we get through a single day together without you trying to kill each other?"

Donnie's shoulders slump, and he gets to his feet. I can see the hurt in his eyes, and I know seeing me like this is tugging on his heart.

"Mikey, I'm sorry…" he whispers. "I wasn't thinking… I was just mad—"

"Well don't be," I bite. "I'm tired of people being mad." I sigh and look away from him. "We're supposed to get better… That's what you said… But  _this_ , all this fighting—it's not helping anybody."

Donnie swallows. He chews on his lip and takes a small step towards me. I don't move; I know what he's doing. So I wait for him to grab my hand and pull me into him, and he hugs me in a protective and worried manner that I've grown used to—the kind of hugs Leo would give me when he would make sure I was okay. I don't know if Donnie realizes how much of a big brother he's become since Leo died, but I'm thankful for it.

I lean against him, ignoring the pain flaring through my jaw as I do so. I hold these moments as close as I can, where it's quiet and no one needs to say anything. I'm always scared they'll be taken away from me.

"I'm sorry, Mikey," he says again, softer this time. I listen to the way his voice vibrates through his chest, and I exhale heavily.

"It's fine," I whisper. "But...no more fighting, okay?"

He pulls me closer, resting his chin on the top of my head as a silent reminder of how short I am compared to him.

"Okay."

I step back from his embrace, noticing the smear of blood I left on the front of his shell. He looks down at it, and then back to me. He's got a sad sort of smile as he rubs my head affectionately.

"Let's get you home, little brother."

~T~

{Raph}

Donnie's in the lab with Mikey, stitching up his face and no doubt the cut I left in his shoulder. I'm sitting in my room, feeling like crap as I stare at the wall and replay the night's events in my head.

I didn't mean to hit him. He wasn't supposed to get in the way…

My nostrils flare with breath and I bring my knees closer to my chest, burying my face in the crevasse my limbs have created.

_I didn't mean to…_

I groan inwardly, upset with myself, with Donnie, with Mikey—just angry with everything. And I don't know why. It's not like I  _want_  to be upset all of the time. I just…am.

They're probably talking about me. Talking about my "anger issues" and how awful of a brother I am. Donnie will probably avoid me for the next few days, give me the cold shoulder and a bunch of mean looks. Mikey will do that thing where he glances at me nervously like he's scared I'm going to hit him or something. I hate it when he does that. It makes me feel like some sort of monster.

I did just bust up my baby brother's face, though. Maybe labeling me as a monster isn't too far off.

I flop back onto my bed, huffing out a heavy breath and rubbing my face with my hands. I wish I didn't have to do stupid things like this—I wish I didn't always snap so easily. I mean, yeah, Donnie's been getting on my nerves like crazy lately, and it definitely doesn't help that he's not scared to fight me anymore; but even if he wasn't trying to take Leo's place, I'd still be mad.

Splinter says it's a mask for my grief. He says that my inability to make peace with Leo's passing has "disrupted my inner balance" or something like that. I thought it was a bunch of junk when he told me that, 'cause I've never been into all that spiritual stuff. But I've been starting to notice a restlessness in me, in my mind. An imbalance. I can't calm down, not even when I'm alone. It's like my mind is always racing, always burning, and my heart's sitting in my chest like a rock. I hate it.

But I don't know how to fix it. How can I make peace with Leo being dead? How can I forgive my brothers for letting him die—how can I forgive  _myself_  for letting him die?

I think that's what bothers me most. I try to hide it, even from my own thoughts, but it's there, lurking. The feeling that I should've been the one to die, not Leo. The team needs Leo. He brought us up, fixed us, took the fall for us when we messed up and pushed us forward…even when we belittled him for it. They don't need me, though. All I do is get people hurt. I can't even control myself around my own little brother.

Yeah…it should've been me. I think I knew that, even then, when I watched the smoke steal him from my sight. I knew I should've made him go with Donnie and Mikey, and I should've stayed behind. After all, I knew what he was going to do with those power conduits—it's not like I couldn't have done it. But I was scared. I wasn't ready to die. I would've rather let him die instead…and that just breaks me down to my core.

My eyes are wet. I blink at the realization and wipe them with the back of my hand. I lie in the silent black of my room, feeling alone and wounded as the old scars start to bleed again. I've kept myself isolated all this time, thinking that I was protecting myself from more pain. But I've just turned my insides to stone. I've become something that I hate more than anything, and I can't even turn to my family anymore because of all this pride I've built up around me to hide my shame. I've left myself with nothing, with no one…and it terrifies me.

Because after all that's happened, there's only one thing I can be sure of. One solitary fact that sits in my gut like ice and hollows me out from the inside. And it the darkness of my room, in the loneliness, in the ache, I let that thought break from the box I've kept it bound in, and it rings throughout my head like thunder.

_The wrong brother died that day._

~T~

{Donnie}

"Ow!" Mikey yelps, wincing as he tries to deal with the pain I'm having to inflict upon him.

"Sorry, sorry," I mutter under my breath. "It's been a while since I've had to do such small stitches like this. I'm a little rusty."

"That's not exactly comforting," he grumbles. "Just stop pokin' me with the— _Gah!_ "

"Stop talking, would you?" I snap. "This is hard enough without you yapping…"

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms impatiently, swinging his legs and kicking his ankles against the side of the table with a dull thud.

"Thank you," I say sarcastically. "Now hold still…I'm almost done…"

He winces again as I pull the needle through the gash in his lip, stringing the two sides of the skin together with a firm tug. His brow is furrowed in pain, but to his credit, he stops complaining in his annoying, verbal manner, and sits quietly on the table. The minutes tick by, horribly sluggish in my concentration, but I finally finish and tie off the wound where it dips down towards his chin.

"There," I chime. I soak a cotton pad in some alcohol and dab away at the excess blood, but it must sting pretty bad because he yelps again and kicks out instinctively.

"Sorry." I offer a side-ways smile and he glares at me.

"Geez!" he whines. "Do I even get a lollipop after all this abuse?"

I chuckle and shake my head. "Ah, no. You do get to stitch up my arm for me though. Does that sound like fun?"

He sighs through his nostrils and roll his eyes again.

"It's not candy…but it'll do."

I grin and hop up on the table, twisting my arm so he can get the whole wound without having to turn much.

"I already cleaned it, so you don't have to do that. Just…be careful. Small stitches, okay? And don't forget to—"

"I got it, I got it, D," he grumbles. "Sheesh. It's not like I've never done this before. Now gimme the needle."

I help him string it up, and I sit there quietly, trying not to wince or correct him as he starts sliding the needle through my skin. I didn't notice how wide that slash Raph gave me was until now…

"So are we gonna tell Master Splinter about this or what?" Mikey asks after a moment. I frown, sighing.

"…No. We'll just make something up, I guess. There's no use dragging him into our problems like this, especially since he expects us to be able to figure these kinds of things out quietly."

Mikey scoffs. "Yeah, 'cause we're so good at that."

I chew on my lip, idly watching the head of the needle vanish and appear over and over again beneath my flesh as he works.

"Besides, it won't do anything. The damage is already done, and getting Raph in trouble will just make him worse towards us. No point in that, I suppose."

"Eh…he'll get better," Mikey says quietly. "He always takes a little longer to figure himself out. But he will, eventually. And we'll be there for him when he does."

I arch a brow, almost amused. "So you've forgiven him for trying to crack your head open?"

Mikey scoffs, his face scrunching up in response. " _Pfft_ , shell no! You better believe I'm eating that slice of pizza he was saving for later, too!"

I laugh, lit up by my little brother's way of dealing with things like this. I know what he feels down inside—the deep feelings, the sensitive, real ones that he only lets us see when we need to—but the way he seems to filter them into such light, childish concerns has always fascinated me. Only Mikey would get back at his brother for punching him by eating his last slice of pizza.

If only everyone's perception of revenge was similar to that of my little brother's. The world would indeed be a better place…but there'd definitely be a shortage on pizza.

"So we won't tell Sensei what really happen, got it. But what do we do with Raph?"

" _Ouch_ ," I hiss, tensing when he slips the needle through a sensitive nerve. "I guess…I guess we just leave him alone for now. Like you said, he'll come around when he's ready… Besides, I'm still mad at him for losing it like that…and for everything he said. He'd be smart to stay away from me for a few days."

Mikey gets quiet for a moment, his lips tugging into a soft frown that's somewhat disrupted by the line of stitches down the side of his mouth.

"Do you think he meant it?" he asks lowly. "Does he really blame us for Leo dying?"

I swallow hard, and my expression becomes sober. "I don't know, Mikey. He might…and in his mind, I could see why. I mean, he would've tried to save Leo if we hadn't pulled him back. Probably would've died or messed everything up…but he still would've tried."

"But that's not what Leo would've wanted," he whispers. "We did what he said to do, right? It's not our fault…is it?"

My eyes soften as I realize that this has been gnawing at my little brother all evening. "No, Mikey," I start in my earnest, big-brother voice. "Of course not. Leo made his decision, and we followed his word… We did the right thing…even if it doesn't always feel like it. And Raph knows that—he does—but he's hurting, and it's clouding his perception of what happened."

But he doesn't look completely satisfied with that answer. I watch him as he finishes up on my arm, and I refrain from groaning when he ties off the stitch with a sharp tug.

"There," he says brightly. "Now we're both pretty."

I crack a grin and shake my head. "Of course we are." I roll my shoulder, stretching my arm to test the pain itching through my muscles. It'll be sore tomorrow, but it's not as bad as I expected it. Mikey's getting better with his stitching, too.

"Thanks." I yawn heavily and slide off the table. "Now come on, we should get some rest before training tomorrow morning, and I'm beat."

"Yeah," he jokes. "In more ways than one."

I arch a brow at him and he just shrugs, grinning as he follows me to my room. I flip on the light and start arranging the blankets, and he stands beside me, whistling softly and tapping his foot to whatever song is playing in his head.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that you're sleeping in my room again?" I ask with a knowing smile.

"Psh, like you even have to ask."

I chuckle. "I don't even know why you have your own room anymore."

"Me neither. You know, you should make some sorta cool machine thing that can smush our rooms together into one giant awesome room."

"Yeah," I scoff, rolling my eyes. "I'll get right on that."

"Good," he says firmly. He hops over to the door to switch off the light just as I collapse onto the bed. He practically cannonballs onto the mattress a second later, and I'm glad I rolled over in time to not get crushed by his airborne self. He hums another tune to himself as he curls up under the blankets and gets comfortable.

"Your bed's too small, you know that?" he chirps. I make a face and laugh.

"Yeah, well, it's not really meant for two mutant turtles," I quip.

"Hm. I don't know why they didn't think of that."

"Well not everyone can be as insightful as you." I grin, rubbing his head before tugging the sheets over me and stifling a yawn. "Goodnight, Mikey."

"'Night, bro."

He falls asleep almost instantly, like usual, and I smile to myself in the dark. But it fades when memories of the night come rushing back in, no longer held back by my little brother's light.

Raph did mean it. I saw it in his eyes, the anger, the bitterness. And he attacked me—worse, he hit Mikey. I mean, we've fought pretty bad before, especially lately, but tonight was the first time I actually felt endangered by him.

I sigh heavily, staring up at the ceiling as Mikey snores beside me. I've been trying as hard as I can… I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong. Was this what it was like for Leo? Meeting opposition at every turn, constantly fighting to hold his place as leader with all of us pulling him in all these different directions?

I hope not. I hope we weren't that awful to him. But part of me knows that we were, in a sense. Not that it matters now…but still. If I could do it again, if I could have him back, just for a little bit…I'd be the best darn follower the world has ever seen.

I exhale and roll on my side, pressing my face into the pillow. I'll deal with Raph tomorrow. Whatever happens, we'll get through it. We have to, after all. It'll take time, and it'll suck, but eventually, everything will be alright.

I'm just hoping that 'eventually' will happen soon.

~T~

{Karai}

I remember a sky on fire. Reds and oranges, yellows and bright purples shooting across the air as the explosion ripped the world above us in two. I remember watching that huge alien ship burst into flames and smoke, right before it crashed into the ocean.

And I remember wondering about him.

I didn't know what to expect when I went investigating around the docks. Maybe it was misplaced curiosity, maybe I wanted to see those little ugly brain things get what they deserve, or maybe I was just drawn by the carnage washing to shore.

But I didn't expect to find him. Not there, not like that.

I remember it took me a moment to even recognize his body. All the skin was burnt, bloody—his bones broken, shell cracked—staining the water red as he drifted along, face-down in the waves and thick, bleeding foam. I don't know why I reached for him. I don't know why I pulled him out from the salty spray and dragged his body to one of the empty warehouses on the docks. I can't even remember what I was thinking at the time, or if I was thinking at all. Maybe I was just scared.

But I found myself in that position nonetheless, and I continued to act without thinking. I hid him in that warehouse, not knowing the full extent of what I had just gotten myself into. The first few days, I didn't even know if he was alive, but I still cleaned his wounds—still washed the blood from his flesh and bound his broken bones. It was difficult, tedious work, washing the deep burns, pulling shrapnel from his tissue, listening to the way his shattered bones would grind up against one another when I had to move him. The smell was even worse; it'd make me sick, but I still stayed until the sun dropped from the sky. I left him there in the night and came back the next day; I expected him to be dead by then, but he wasn't. Still breathing, short and shallow. So I kept doing what I could, motivated by some unknown purpose to keep him alive as long as possible.

But what was at first curiosity became something else. Slowly, over the days and weeks, it blossomed into concern. I'd steal from my father, from the medical center—from wherever I could—and bring what I'd gathered back to the warehouse, treating him any way I knew how. I had created some sort of make-shift shelter to keep him safe. I still didn't know what I was doing, and when I'd return home, I'd lie awake at night and wonder what cost I would have to pay for keeping my enemy alive. If my father found out, he'd end me in a second.

That's when the concern gave way to fear like ice and froze in my chest. I knew I'd have a death wish to defy my father in such a blatant manner, so over the next few days, I stayed away from the warehouse. The thought of killing him circulated amongst my thoughts—after all, I assumed dying by my hand was better than at the blade of my father. Cornered between this odd attachment and my fear of punishment, I turned that one thought over and over in my mind's hand.

But of course the day I decided to kill him was the day he woke up.

I remember that, clear as anything. Standing there with my hand on my sword, my heart frozen in my chest. Those blue eyes were so wide, so stark against the deep reds and browns of his wounded skin. He looked at me, helpless and weak, and yet there was something fierce and deep and strong in his gaze. I knew at that moment I didn't have it in me to kill him.

So I didn't. I stayed, continuing my work, building upon the shelter I had made for us, and it slowly became a second home to me. I did what I could, just like before, and he'd drift in and out of consciousness, too weak to say a word. I kept fearing that he'd die on me, with his condition and my lack of expertise. But he's strong—always has been. He stayed afloat, through all the pain, bearing with me as I tried my best to keep his spirit tied to this world. It seemed like his wounds grew worse with each passing day, and there were times when I wondered if I should've let him pass away instead of dragging him back up here. But that vein feeling would vanish whenever he'd wake up. Even if it was just for a few minutes, seeing those blue eyes focusing on me, like I was the only thing he could see—it chased all the doubts away. He wasn't giving up, so neither would I.

The days I spent with him were long and dreary, full of silence so tense, so thick, I could feel it stick to my skin. But as I grew more comfortable with the odd situation, I started to talk. Just little things on my mind, details of yesterday or frustrations during training. I knew he couldn't hear me, but it helped ease the tension from my mind. It was nice, talking and knowing he wasn't going to say anything back. But I've always felt like that around him. There was no judgment, no fear. He'd just listen, as he did before.

Weeks turned into months, and gradually, he got better. His skin healed, but the scar tissue remained heavy in certain areas, and he took even longer to begin to move or speak. But he did, eventually. But he was patient through the healing process and patient through my absences, which became frequent for a while. I'd leave him food and water, but that was all I could do while I was away. Sometimes he'd be alone for a day, sometimes a week: I never could predict the schedule my life would form. Not with my father watching me, at least.

It was worse early on, when I'd return and have to tear the bandages that had stuck to his oozing flesh, opening the wounds all over again. I know he hated that, because I did too, but there was little I could do to avoid it. I had to be careful, after all. Father could never see a pattern in my daily activities—I couldn't let him trace anything back to this place. I even had to move him three different times before returning back to the warehouse, just to be sure. Just to keep him safe. I don't think he minded; I think he was just content in not being alone.

We talked more and more, and I managed to find ways around my father's vigil. I had taken a liking to our room on the docks, to our conversations, to the friendship that was slowly blooming beneath the visits, the cautious smiles and reserved laughs. We had never spent so much time together, not in an environment that invited anything other than sword fights and snarky banter. But it was nice to not fight, to just sit there and breathe and not worry about my father or my duties back home. I could be real here. Just human. No expectations, no discipline, no favor to withhold. Just the two of us, tucked away in our own little corner of the world.

And I never would have guessed that my greatest enemy would become my only friend.

* * *

 


	6. More Than Ever

* * *

 

{Leo}

I should be dead. Really, I should. I have no idea why the universe allowed my spirit to linger in such a broken body; why it wasn't torn from me the second my world was consumed by the blast. All I remember was the flash of white, and then the boom. So deep, so impossibly loud—and then nothing. And for a long time, that's all there was.

I was drifting. Through the waves of gray hues, through the washes of fading light along the horizon as the water carried me into the endless expanse of my subconscious. Just floating along, still alive, but barely.

That's all I remember in those long months. Just the drifting, just the waters, just the gray. Every once in a while, the light grew a little brighter, but the waters still pulled me along.

I thought I was dead. I thought that maybe this was all that there was after life. That your spirit just drifted, endless, aimless. If my mind had been working, I would've thought the perpetual state of nothingness to be a disappointment.

But then, after an eternity in the waves, the waters let me go. The gray sky fell away, and I woke up. And she was the first thing I saw.

It didn't make sense. It still doesn't, to be honest. When I first woke, I still thought I was dead, and nothing really registered in my mind. I would see her, hear her, feel her—but I wasn't really there. It was more drifting, just not in the water. Day in and day out, the world melted together. Sometimes I would feel pain, and I wouldn't know why. Other times I couldn't tell if I was asleep or awake, or if all of this was some weird dream. When she was around, she would talk to me—idly, like she didn't think I was listening. And maybe I wasn't—after all, I can't remember a thing she said. But I would hear her voice, and I would latch onto it. It was the only thing that made me feel like I was actually there. It tethered me to the world of the living while my mind and spirit waned and faded in and out. She kept me there.

I got better. Slowly, my body and mind and soul aligned again, and things became clearer. Not by much, but enough. My thoughts started turning again, and I'd be awake longer and longer. But I was in pain. So much pain. Everything hurt—being alive hurt. My head, my skin, my bones, my insides—all of it was a cacophony of stinging pain and deep aches. But the worst of it was in my chest. Not physical pain, though at times, it felt like it. It was something deeper, something invisible and vital. Sometimes I would wake up crying, and I had no idea why. Sometimes she'd say certain words, and the ache would increase, like someone had hollowed me out. It confused me. It scared me.

And it only got worse.

So I buried it. Under the physical pain, under the toil of pushing to survive day in and day out. I buried it under the haze and fog left in my mind. I pushed all the strange thoughts away and shoved them down deep so they wouldn't hurt me. I focused on her instead. On the little world she had created for us. The window above where my body lay stretched out became a sort of doorway for my mind. When I would hurt, I'd stare up at it and disappear. The faint rays of sunlight would steal my thoughts away, and I'd be drifting again, too far gone to be touched or bound by the physical and emotional torment that lay in wait for me below.

But eventually, I'd have to come down. She was there when I did, though. Always there. There to talk, to laugh at something funny that I did, or smile. I liked it when she smiled. It was always quiet, reserved, like she didn't think I was paying attention. It was such a soft gesture, so different from her usual self. No, she was real there. She was real with me. Patient with my recovery, with my mental lapses, with my slow-formed thoughts. When I drifted, she just waited, and she was always there when I washed back up to shore.

I'm awake now. Alive. Here. My mind works, my thoughts turn, and the pain has ebbed from my body. I can see and feel and hear and speak, just like before. I'm better now.

But not really.

As far as I'm concerned, I'm dead. I died the instant that light blew my world apart.

~T~

{Karai}

My eyes run over his form, and as he sleeps, the memories cloud my vision, layering reality with the nightmares of the past. It's strange sometimes, to see him now and to remember what he was before. I can't even picture the way his face looked the day I pulled him from the sea. That's a good thing, though.

It took me a while to get used to him not wearing a mask, but now I can hardly remember it. He looks younger without it. Not in a bad way, but the lack of material makes his eyes look bigger—bluer, too. Something about his exposed face makes him look more innocent, more vulnerable. Real.

I fix things up absently while I wait for him to come to. I have to be careful to keep the area clean from anything that might trace me to him, and in my paranoia, I've gotten very good at spotting the smallest details. It's become a bit of an obsession, really. He thinks it's funny, and every time he makes a smart comment about it, I ask him how funny he'd think it'd be if my father found him here. That usually shuts him up.

I hear him shift on the couch behind me, murmuring indistinctly. I smile to myself as I refill some of the food preserves. He talks in his sleep. Mumbles things and twitches. Sometimes it's sad, especially when he dreams of his brothers. Other times, it borders on comical. Yesterday he called me pretty, and when I joked about it after he woke up, he said that it was rude to eavesdrop on people while they're sleeping.

I'm organizing the medicines I collected on the shelf when I hear him roll over and groan. I glance over my shoulder.

"Finally," I tease. "Has anyone ever told you how lazy you are?"

He opens one eye and smirks. "Has anyone ever told you how not-funny you are?"

"Nope," I shrug. "Just you."

He chuckles weakly and groans again as he sits up and tries to stretch. I see his face twist in pain, but he recovers quickly.

"Any better today?" I ask idly. He sighs.

"Sort of… I think I just need to move around more. My muscles keep cramping up…"

"What muscles?" I joke. He glares at me.

"See?" he grumbles. "Not funny."

I shrug again. "It's true, though. You've been lying around on your butt for almost a year—what'd you expect?"

"Some moral support would've been nice," he mutters. I smile wryly.

"That's not exactly my strong suite."

"Yeah, no kidding." He pulls his arms over his head and winces. " _Gah_ —" He hisses, rubbing his shoulder. "Man…this sucks."

"So get up," I offer simply. "We can start some training to get your strength back…" I set the jars back on the shelf and pause. "So you can go home."

He gets quiet for a moment. He always does when I mention his family. My brow furrows.

"Why do you do that?" I ask softly. He looks up at me.

"Why do I do what?"

"You get quiet when I bring up your home. Why?" I lean against the counter. "I know you miss them… You call out for them in your sleep."

A look of pain flashes across his gaze, and he looks down at his hands.

"I thought I told you not to eavesdrop—"

"So what's the problem?"

He hesitates, obviously bothered.

I watch him carefully, studying him. I don't say anything—I just give him space to think and speak. I know he'll spit it out eventually. We've built a bond over the last year, something special and strange. We can talk about really deep things or about nothing at all. We can talk for hours or be silent for days, and it's still the same. In fact, I think our silence speaks the loudest between us.

He takes his time, no doubt forming the words in his mind with caution as he tries to sort out his thoughts and feelings.

"I don't know," he starts, uncertain. "I mean, I  _died_ , right? And it's been such a long time…"

Which is true. He did die. Even if he's here now, I know he lost something. I'm not sure what, but I can see it in his eyes—a haze, a void. The kind of look people get when you know they'll never be the same again.

"You could've gone home months ago," I whisper carefully. "You didn't have to stay here."

"I know… But I wanted to get better before they saw me."

I tilt my head, and my eyes narrow slightly. "Don't lie to me, Leo."

I push off the counter and walk over to where he's sitting on the sofa.

He frowns and glares up at me with a heavy sigh. "I'm scared, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

That almost surprises me—not his fear, per se, but the fact that he admitted it so bluntly.

"You're afraid of your family?" I question. "Leo, I think I'm the only one here who has a good reason to be afraid of my family—or what's left of it. But you?" I sit down on the couch arm beside him. "Your family loves you."

He looks down at his hands, wringing them in his lap nervously. "…I know they do—but it's been so long. They think I'm dead. They probably hate me for sending them off in that escape pod so I could go blow up by myself…at least, I'm sure Raph does."

"You don't know that," I retort. "I'm pretty sure they'd rather have you come home, even if they are hurt." I eye him warily, sensing the words he won't say aloud. "That can't be the only thing holding you back."

He chews on his lip.

"It's…it's not…"

I cross my arms and lean back on the couch, waiting for him to answer.

"I think I'm just scared that there won't be a family to come back to…you know? I can't imagine…what it must've been like for them…to come home alone." He winces, as if the thought physically pains him. "To face Master Splinter and tell him that his son was dead."

Something aches in my chest. I hadn't thought of it that way.

"And learning to get along without me—I mean, I can't imagine how I'd feel if one of them died and I had to pick up the pieces. I'd be devastated. I'd be angry—at them, at myself—at everything. It'd never be the same—ever. And I'm just sorry that I put them through all of that…"

He trails off and looks away.

"I don't know, I guess I'm afraid to go back and find that everything's changed. That…they've changed. Or I've changed. I just don't want to come home and realize how much of a mess I've made, leaving them behind like that."

I scoff inwardly to myself. Typical Leo. He gives his life for his family and  _still_  thinks everything's his fault. The highest sacrifice he could ever give, and here he is, wallowing in blame and fear, like he could've done it better or something.

But maybe that's why we get along. We're both so critical towards ourselves, harboring a storm of ice and fire within us. We can be cold and calculating on the surface, but we're burning up inside, trying to hold everything in. Confused, double-minded—always fearing that we've made a wrong choice somewhere. We take firm steps forward, but our necks are strained from our constant backward glances. Always pushing ourselves to be better because it's never enough. And it never will be.

It's a mask, all of it. A film layered over us to blur what we really are inside: Broken.

"My scouts haven't seen them since," I whisper. "No one has. It's like they've up and vanished. My father actually believes you're all dead—and it's probably the only reason he doesn't suspect anything with my absences."

He purses his lips. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I'm just saying that all of that may be true—they probably are broken and hurt and angry. But you can fix it. You're right, it may not ever be the same…but that's not always a bad thing."

His eyes narrow slightly, like he doesn't believe me. "But I  _liked_  how we were before. I liked the training, the patrol—the whole life we led. I mean, yeah, it was crazy, and they drove me nuts ninety-five percent of the time…but I'd still give anything to have that back."

"That doesn't matter," I state simply. "Life doesn't care about what you'd give. Sometimes you lose and it sucks, but you just deal with it and move on."

He passes another glare my way, sarcasm thick in his voice. "You should be a motivational speaker."

I ignore the quip and sigh. "Look, my point is that sometimes things like this happen. It's going to hurt and it isn't going to be easy…but running from it, or hiding, or whatever this is that you're doing…it isn't going to help. You have to focus on what you're capable of doing to move forward…and stop looking back on the things you've lost. I'm sure you know that. And even though it may never be what it was before, you can find a way to make it better."

He looks up at me, warily at first, but then his eyes soften and he gives me that lopsided smile I've grown to love so much.

"You're sounding like my Sensei, you know?" He chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm getting life lessons from my enemy… Heh, that's new."

I punch him in the shoulder—playful, but not light—and it earns me one of his funny little dead-pan scowls.

"I think we're past the enemy thing now," I chime. "Wouldn't you agree?"

He pauses, and then shrugs. "Well let's see, you've pulled me back from the brink of death, fed me, sheltered me, and kept me safe at the expense of your own life… Yeah, I'd say we're past that now."

I stretch my arms overhead with an exaggerated sigh. "Yep, I think we've hit 'arch-nemesis' territory. Mortal enemies, doomed to die at the blade of one another in glorious combat."

He starts laughing, but it must hurt or something, because he doubles over and gingerly holds his sides. That doesn't stop his little giggle-fit, though, and I allow myself to join in for a moment, amused at how impossible stupid all of this is.

But eventually, it fades, lifting like fog around us as the silence settles back in. He keeps his eyes down on his hands, and I'm staring out the large arching window in the back of the warehouse, where the light streams in, its rays softened through the glass. The warehouse itself is ugly—rust, debris, empty oil barrels and a bunch of other junk stashed here and there. But I like that window.

"I'll miss this," he says absently, drawing me from my trance. I glance at him through my peripherals.

"Yeah?"

He nods, but something in his gaze shifts. "Why'd you do this for me?"

I blink, a little caught off guard—not because of the question, but because I realize I don't have an answer.

"I…don't really know," I offer limply. "I mean, it was just instinct after finding you like that."

He eyes me. "You could've just left me there. I would've been dead by nightfall, and you wouldn't have had to go through so much trouble trying to keep me alive."

"True," I mutter, tapping the heel of my foot against the couch idly. "You are a real pain, and you're just so needy. Honestly, I would've been better off—"

"I'm being serious, Karai," he glowers.

"So am I." I smirk at him, content on keeping my shields up for the moment and covering myself beneath a veil of sarcasm and vague answers. Because I don't know the answer to his question. Sometimes I do things and I just don't know why.

He looks at me for a moment, but he must see that I either can't or won't answer, so he drops it. How insightful of him.

I pat the side of the couch with an enthusiastic slap. "So!" I pipe, eager to change the subject to something less awkward. "Let's start that training, shall we?"

He blinks at me, and his voice cracks a little. "Now? Like,  _right_  now?"

"Yes, like right now." I slip from the couch and bounce lightly on my heels, motioning him to follow. "Come on, Leo—off your shell."

He frowns in a childish manner, muttering under his breath about how bossy I am as he carefully maneuvers himself off of the couch. I watch his expression melt and shift as he fights different kinds of pain. His movements are slow and tender, like he's expecting his body to crumble.

"When did standing become so difficult?" he says shakily.

"Muscle atrophy," I explain. "You've been inactive for too long. Your blood and oxygen circulation isn't sufficient—"

"Thanks, Donnie, I got it," he grumbles. My brows arch slightly at the remark, but he doesn't seem to notice that he even made it.

There's a limp in his right leg. He's only just now noticing it as he gently shifts weight from each foot. But the leg doesn't seem able to hold him steady, and he slips back against the couch, grimacing.

"Something's wrong," he hisses through gritted teeth. He tries to stand again, testing said limb as if to prove his theory, and sure enough, he falters.

" _Ah_ —I think—I think it's the bone."

Something tugs in my chest, and I remember.

"…It is," I say quietly. He looks up at me, one of his arms pressing against the couch to hold him up.

"It shattered," I continue. The memories pulse through my mind. So much blood. I was scared—scared of messing up, of hurting him—

"I couldn't do anything but bind it like the rest of your bones. I was hoping it'd just heal up on its own…but obviously, that didn't work."

I expect a flash of blame to race across his steady gaze. I wait for it, in fact. I didn't do the job right—I messed up his leg, and now he can hardly stand. He's in pain; I can see it all over his face. Of course he'd blame me. I didn't do the best I could—

"Stop making that face," he says suddenly, pulling me from my self-deprecating trance.

I frown. "What?"

"Do you think I'm mad at you?" he asks, dodging my question.

I blink, put off a bit. I open my mouth to say something, but he doesn't give me the chance.

"You saved my life, Karai. Try to keep that in mind, will you?"

I stand there for a moment, and my brain is unable to come up with anything coherent. I probably look like an idiot, because he practically nailed my thought process to the wall.

And then it occurs to me that in all this time we've spent together, I wasn't the only one learning how to read.

~T~

{Leo}

Her eyes shine for a moment, gleaming with something I can't quite place. My words must have struck something in her. I hope so, because I hate seeing that expression she gets when she's expecting to be punished or yelled at. If that look wasn't bad enough, it's like she thinks she deserves it.

And that bothers me.

She shakes her head after a moment, sighing and completely ignoring what I just said, like it never happened.

"Okay, so we're going to have to learn to work around that limp." She bites her lip and frowns for a moment, deep in thought. And just because our minds seem to run along the same track so often, I know that she's trying to come up with exercises that  _don't_  involve leg movements for the sake of my busted leg. Or maybe it's just because she doesn't want to watch me struggle with something so simple.

"Maybe if I walk on it for a bit?" I offer. "Get used to it or whatever."

She eyes me and nods slowly. "Yeah…we'll start with that."

I am in no way excited by the fact that I basically have to learn to walk again. I can feel how weak my body has become, and it disgusts me. My muscles are the equivalent to limp noodles, and the smallest task seems to have me gasping.

I hate it.

But I conceal all of that beneath a face of stone cold determination. I take slow, careful steps across the floor, holding the back of the couch for much-needed support and trying not to wince every time my leg flares of up with pain. As much as my muscle 'atrophy' or whatever is an issue, it's definitely the bones. They feel thinner, and part of me is scared that they're actually going to snap right out from under me.

"How bad does it hurt?" she asks after a moment of watching me, her arms cross over her chest and a calculating look on her face.

I swallow and lie. "It's not bad, actually. I just need to get used it, that's all."

I take another step—ignore the fire, the pain—and another. She just watches me, and I'm becoming uneasy beneath her cold gaze. She definitely knows I'm lying to spare her feelings. Stupid—I can't get anything past her.

"It looks like it hurts." She nods towards my busted leg, and I look down at the way the bones in my shin seem to twist and gnarl beneath my flesh. I refrain from grimacing, but I can't help the flinch that jerks my body when she steps towards me.

"You don't have to lie to me, Leo," she says lowly. "If it hurts, just say it."

My brow knits. There really is no point in lying to her.

"Fine, it hurts, okay? It's really uncomfortable and I don't like it. Happy?"

"Well, we could always break it and try again," she offers, smirking.

I glare at her. "Your sense of humor really sucks, you know that?"

The fact that she's trying to conceal her guilt over my leg with her dry humor intrigues me, but I guess she's always been like that. Covering things up, like she doesn't care. Like it's not hurting her inside.

"It's true, though." Something in her gaze shifts. "And when you get back home, I'm sure you can ask Donatello to help you fix it. He'd have to break it again, sure, but it'd be worth it in the end if he could get rid of the limp."

I swallow at my brother's name. I've been trying not to think of them, trying to push those thoughts beyond the haze, where they can't hurt me. But sometimes it's too strong. They're my family. My blood. How could I  _not_  think of them now?

She's watching me again, no doubt because of me stiffening at Donnie's name. I wish she couldn't read me so well.

"Two months," she says suddenly. I look at her, confused.

"What?"

"You'll stay here for another two months. We'll train, get your strength back, work with the limp—and then you're going home."

"But Karai—"

"No!" The sudden flare in her tone makes me jump. She sees my reaction to her snapping and sighs, looking away and lowering her voice respectively. "I can't keep you here forever, Leo. You're putting my life at risk here too…" Her eyes meet mine. Sharp, bright amber, piercing through my defenses like daggers. "Besides, being injured is one thing…but being a coward is something else entirely."

Her words have teeth. They sink into me and I find that horrid ache returning in my chest. Because she's right. I  _am_ being a coward. I'm scared—terrified—to come home and see what I've done to my family. Terrified to find my brothers a wounded, broken mess, all because of me. I'm not ready to face them, not yet—maybe not ever. Being dead was so much easier. Being dead didn't hurt at all. But  _life_ …it hurts far more than I remember it.

I took a sledgehammer and shattered my brothers' world in one fell swoop. And then I vanished into smoke, into the fire, and I died. I left them to pick themselves up, to pick each other up. I left them with the mess, with the pain, the fear, the confusion—all the things that plague me now. I left them without a leader, without a brother—I left my father without a son.

How can they ever forgive me for that? How can I forgive  _myself_  for that? And with every day that passes, I dig myself into a deeper pit, delaying the inevitable. I should have gone home the second I woke up. I should have run to my family, to my brothers, my father—I should've leaped at the chance to be with them again. But I didn't. For whatever reason, whatever fear that's taken to clouding my mind, I stayed in this safe haven, locked away from everything that mattered. Because the things that matter are the things that hurt the most.

I made a decision on that ship. I looked them in the eye and understood that I wasn't going home. I walked into the flames, into the smoke and the burning wreckage, and I faced my death head-on, just like I promised them.

I was ready to die. But coming back wasn't part of the plan. And that's just something I don't have the strength to do.

* * *

We worked on walking today. Well, we've worked on walking for the past three weeks, actually. And let me say that I'll never take something as simple as putting one foot in front of the other for granted ever again.

I've gotten better…slightly. I don't have to hold onto things anymore, but I'm incredibly slow, which has given Karai plenty of room for cracking jokes about turtles being slow. Normally, that wouldn't bother me, but it's starting to grate on me, all things considering. I'll get her back when I'm full-on ninja again. Teach her a thing or two about yapping her mouth—

"Stop favoring one leg so much," she says sharply, tearing me from my thoughts. I glare at her.

"But the other one  _hurts_ —"

"You need to use both as equally as you can, or else the muscles aren't going to get any stronger. Besides, you have to learn to work with that leg until Donatello can fix it."

"You mean break it again," I mutter, pouting slightly. "In which I'll have to start this whole thing all over."

She just scoffs. "Well, don't get yourself blown up again and you won't have that problem."

My lip curls slightly, but I shake off her commentary. I've noticed she's becoming meaner as I recover. Guess the whole "pity" thing doesn't last long with her…which is good, because it gets me moving. Besides, training needs to be harsh. I have to get back into that zone of pushing my limits, and who better than Karai to send me to the brink?

"Now do another lap. And stop slouching. It's bad form."

I growl a little her way. "I'm still learning how to freaking walk, Karai—I think you can worry about form later."

She arches a brow, smirking. "Actually, you've always slouched. I just never got around to telling you until now."

I let out an exaggerated groan. This is going to be the longest two months of my life.

* * *

"Ow!"

"Again."

"But it—"

"I said  _again_ , Leo!"

I duck just as she swings a wooden pole at my head. I stumble back, biting down a curse. Man, she just won't let up—

_Whack!_

The stick hits the back of my good leg and I yelp, flinching accordingly.

"You're not paying attention," she snaps, jabbing the pole in my direction. "And your twists are sloppy. You're supposed to pivot with your hips, not on your heels—that's why you keep screwing up the kata."

"Well  _maybe_  if somebody would stop hitting me with a six-foot  _stick_ , I wouldn't be so distracted!" I snarl, swatting away another attempt to smack me upside the head.

"I'm trying to train you," she growls. "It's not my fault you're a bad student."

I refrain from making a snotty remark, because I know it'll only result in her whacking me with the stick again, and that's not productive for either of us.

"Just help me with the katas first, and  _then_  we can move on to you trying to kill me. Deal?"

She laughs, but not before jabbing the staff into my plastron.

"Deal."

* * *

"Good job."

The words catch my ear and I look up from my position. I've been doing the katas all morning and she hasn't said a thing until now.

"Was that…praise?" I say, arching a brow and grinning knowingly. And here I was, thinking I was doing it all wrong.

She scoffs. "Don't push it."

"So it  _was_ ," I press, straightening from my place on the floor. "And it only took a month and a half to get you to say something nice to me again."

Her nostrils flare and she rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. I smirk and roll my shoulders.

"So did I finally do something acceptable in your eyes, Karai?" I continue, eyeing her with a grin. "Or are you just flattering me?"

"Alright, that's it." She rips the sword from the sheath on her hips and lunges right for me. I can't help the yelp that pushes from my throat as I roll out of the way, snatching the wooden staff placed by the wall and twirling it in my hand.

Her sword clangs on the ground where I used to be, and her eyes lock onto me, glimmering. I feel my heart skip a few times in a mixture of excitement and fear. It's just like it was before.

She comes at me again, and despite my limp and general rustiness, I manage to evade another swing of her sword as I scramble for the couch. Adrenaline is spilling into my veins, and in the heat of the moment, I've practically forgotten the pain in my leg.

_Man, I've missed this!_

I slide under the small table standing beside the sofa just as her sword comes down overhead. It smacks into the wood and sticks, and while she grunts and tries to pull it free, I twist onto my back and kick upwards, sending the whole piece of furniture—and her—flying back in a heap.

I can't suppress the smile that practically splits my face in two when I hear her growl in frustration and shove the table aside.

"Oh, you're  _dead_!"

~T~

{Karai}

The sound that escapes him as I jump to my feet really catches me off guard. It's like this boyish laughter that rings out through the warehouse, light and bubbly, as if he couldn't be more excited. I knew he always enjoyed our late-night fights along the rooftops—I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy them myself—but it's like he couldn't be having more fun at the moment.

And it's oddly adorable.

I drag my initial surprise beneath my scowl and charge after him. For a guy with a limp, he sure moves fast. He uses the staff he's grabbed as leverage to hurl himself right over the couch, keeping it between the two of us as I grip my sword tighter.

"What, are you just gonna run around the entire warehouse until I catch you?" I growl, slowly circling around the furniture piece. He follows my movements in the opposite direction, keeping equal distance from me.

"That's the plan."

I allow myself to smirk. He sees the look in my eyes and shrinks back a little bit as the muscles in my legs bunch and coil, like a snake ready to strike. I jump for him another instant later, leaping over the entire couch and swinging my blade in a wide arch. He stumbles back, blocking my landing blow with his staff. The blade bites into the wood, sticking again, and he uses that to his advantage as he yanks down and pulls me right into him. I gasp at the sudden motion, but he knocks the breath from my lungs with a firm kick planted to my middle. I tumble backwards, sliding on the cold ground, my gut aching from the attack. I glare up at him, breathing hard through my nostrils in frustration. He stands there, grinning down at me with both the staff and my sword in either hand.

"And you say I'm rusty," he taunts, twirling my blade idly in his hand. "What's wrong, can't handle an impaired mutant turtle?"

I growl lowly and spring back to my feet, ripping the dagger from the hidden sheath beneath my thigh guard and throwing it right at him. He yelps and drops to the ground a split second before it hits him, and in his surprise, I launch myself into the air and land with my knee connecting to his lower jaw. He cries out in a mixture of pain and shock, and in seconds, I have him pinned to the floor with my sword back in my grasp and poised delicately over his neck.

He glares up at me, his lips tugged into a boyish pout.

"That was a cheap shot," he grumbles.

"Hmph." I pull my blade back and sheathe it behind me, grinning down smugly at him. "Serves you right for being a dork."

He gives me a sideways smirk. "You know, this training's way better than practicing katas all day."

I arch a brow and push off of him, getting to my feet and brushing the dirt from my tights.

"You're just really lazy."

He laughs and takes a moment to stand with his bad leg. He stretches it a bit, and I can tell from the flash in his eyes that it's hurting again.

"I think you've had enough for today. You should rest," I say, turning on my heels. "My father needs me for some scouting mission, so I'll be gone for the next four days. Think you can handle it by yourself, Gimpy?"

I glance over my shoulder to see him frowning and mouthing 'Gimpy' with a confused expression. I chuckle and head over to the counter to check the food stash. He limps back over to the couch, watching me as I go through the cabinets.

"Four days?" he asks with a sad inflection in his tone. "What am I supposed to do for four days?"

I shrug. "Practice your katas and sleep? That's all you've been doing anyway. Oh, and don't forget those stretches I've been showing you to help strengthen your muscles." I shut the cabinets and sigh. "You have enough food and water until then. I'll bring some more when I get back."

I turn to face him and my chest aches a tad bit at the look he's got in his eyes. Like a puppy kicked out on its rear. Ridiculous.

"I've left before," I chide.

"I know… It just gets really quiet. And this place is kinda creepy when I'm by myself…"

I roll my eyes. "I'm sure you can handle it, Fearless." I push off the counter and walk towards the door. "I have to get back now, alright?"

He gives a slow nod. "Yeah…okay."

I ignore the sad puppy eyes and wave him off in the doorway. "It's only a few days," I say again, offering a smile. But he still looks upset. "You'll be fine."

I go to shut the door behind me when he calls out.

"Karai?"

I pause and glance back. "Yeah?"

"Be careful, okay?" The sincerity in his voice makes me hesitate, but of course, he ruins it when he opens his mouth again. "And hurry up. Oh, and could you bring me some pizza—"

I roll my eyes again and cut him off by shutting the door.

~T~

{Leo}

Man, I hate it when she's gone. It's so quiet and weird and I hate sitting in this big empty place all by myself. But she can't help it, so I've just got to deal with it and hope she's still off Shredder's radar when it comes to this place.

I've done all the katas a million times now. I've stretched and practiced jogging around the room until my leg felt like it was going to snap right off. I've fought with the make-shift punching bag until my knuckles started to bleed, and I've eaten and slept and done about everything else one can do while sitting alone in a giant empty warehouse.

Gosh, this is so boring. It almost hurts.

I'm sprawled out on the floor because I'm too bored to even bother with climbing onto the couch when the handle on the door jiggles. I sit up, tensing immediately and grabbing the wooden staff defensively as the door is wrenched open—

"Karai?" I ask, bewildered. She rushes in and slams it behind her.

"I thought you weren't supposed to get back until tomorrow," I start. She just shakes her head, breathless as she walks towards me in a brisk manner, obviously put off by something.

"I had to come back early," she says quickly. "But I can't stay. I just had to tell you something before my father calls me in for mission debriefing."

I eye her warily, noting her flustered state. She must've just gotten back from scouting all evening.

"What'd you need to tell me?"

Her voice lowers to a hushed tone. "Leo, I saw your brothers last night."

I drop the staff, and it clatters to the floor with a hollow sound. My heart skips a little and the questions spill from my mouth like water.

"You did? Where? What were they doing? Are they okay?"

But there's a sad look in her eyes that shoves icicles of fear through my chest.

"They were in one of the alleyways on 5th." She hesitates a little. "Leo…they were fighting."

I blink, noting the slow creep of dread move through my system. "Who?"

"Each other."

My chest suddenly feel too tight. "What? What do you mean, they were fighting each other?"

She sighs and leans against the table, avoiding my searching gaze.

"I mean Red was trying to pound Purple's brains into the pavement, Leo."

My eyes widen, and I can't seem to breathe. I knew they'd fight—we've always fought—but Karai wouldn't be telling me this if it weren't something more than just a brotherly disagreement.

"H-How'd you—"

"I broke up from my scouting party for a few minutes to go look by myself, like I always do, and I heard yelling," she explains. "So I went investigating, and I found them in the alley, shouting at each other and fighting. I left when Raphael knocked Michelangelo into the trash cans."

"Raph  _hit_  Mikey?" I ask, incredulous. "Like,  _hit him_ , hit him?"

She still won't look at me. "It was pretty bad, Leo. They were both bleeding when I left."

My heart is thumping fast and hard, right into my ribs. Pounding the blood through my skull with a sickening beat and wash of warmth. No, they wouldn't… Would they?

"I just wanted to tell you before I told my father."

My eyes widen. "What? You can't tell him—he thinks we're all dead!"

"Some of the other scouts heard what happened," she says with a frown. "And I have to keep his trust, Leo. You know that."

My thoughts are stumbling and crashing into one another. I know she has to tell Shredder, but still…

"What…what were they fighting about?" I ask, my voice breaking slightly under the weight of it all.

There's a moment of silence, but then she lifts her head up and her eyes find mine.

"You."

My heart slows a bit and confusion warps my expression. "…What?"

"I couldn't get close enough to hear everything…and I only showed up once it had started…but it sounded like they were blaming each other for your death. At least, Raphael was." She sighs. "I don't know, but it wasn't good and—Leo?"

I've buried my face in my hands, trying to control the tremble that's wormed its way inside of me. I knew this would happen—I knew it, feared it—so why does it still come as a shock to me?

Maybe because there's nothing more terrifying than fears becoming reality. My brothers…fighting each other.  _Hurting_  each other. Throwing the blame for my death around like punches when all of this is really my fault. All of it. Why would they blame each other? It was my decision—I thought they knew that!

I feel the warmth of Karai's hand on the back of my shell as she kneels down beside me. She doesn't say anything while I hide my face in my arms, concealing a look of terror and guilt.

"I-I've gotta go home," I whisper. My voice cracks a little. "Karai, I—"

"Don't worry," she says gently. "Just tell me where to go, and I'll clear the way. We can leave tonight."

I nod, swallowing thickly. Tears blur my vision, but I don't let them escape my eyes, and I blink until the wetness recedes.

"Thank you," I say quietly. She just nods and quietly gets to her feet.

"I have to get back before he notices I'm gone." She takes her hand off of me and moves for the door again. "I'll be back at midnight, okay? We'll leave as soon as I make sure the streets are clear."

I don't respond. The shock's still seeping through my system, icing over my blood at the realization that I've broken my family.

"They're gonna need you to be strong, Leo," she whispers, lingering in the doorway for a moment. "More than they ever have."

I hear the door shut as she leaves again, and I'm left alone in a room that suddenly feels much colder and much more empty than it did five minutes ago.

My jaw clenches, and I stare at the ground as a fierce determination begins to burn in my gut. The fear is joined with something else, something old and familiar. Something stronger.

The time for hiding is over with. My brothers need me now, and I'll be as strong as I have to be to pull my family back together.

I owe them that much.

* * *

 


	7. Home (Part One)

* * *

{Karai}

Neither of us have said a word since we left the warehouse. To be honest, it almost hurt to leave that rusty building behind, knowing what we've cultivated will no longer be allowed to grow. All those little moments in the quiet where I could let the layers peel from my skin—they're all just a distant memory now. No more long conversations about nothing. No more hours of soft silence where words could simply float in the air with no voice to send them, and still be understood.

For a while there, I was more than I've ever been before. My hands healed what they touched, my words were no longer weapons, and my intentions hovered above the darkened path that has stained my life. For a while, I had purpose—the good kind.

But now, as I scour the alleyways in the dead of the night, I know that that's already far behind me. By dawn, I'll be right back where I've always been, and no one but us will ever know of those moments in which I reached beyond the shadow of my father.

Leo stays behind me, concealed by the darkness as I sweep the backstreets of the city for a clear path. There is only silence, but it's tense and wounded, dragging itself along behind us on bloodied stumps. Leo's fears have swelled and seep from him in tangible waves. His nerves are practically shot with the anticipation of what's to come when he sets foot into his home again. My chest aches for him, but it hurts more when I think that our wayward friendship is now a thing of the past. He'll go home, and I'll go back to my father, and the world will turn right over the past year like it never happened.

The night air is heavy with smog and heat, and my uniform sticks to my slick skin, making me feel as miserable physically as I do emotionally. We have to stop at every street, every turn and corner, scoping out the surroundings to ensure safe passage. It's a grueling process—one that takes almost two whole hours—but we finally reach familiar territory, and Leo slips up beside me, gingerly holding his bad leg an inch or so off the ground to rest it.

"I know where to go from here," he whispers. I merely nod, suddenly unable to find the words under the heaviness in my spirit.

He glances around warily before limping towards the manhole cover. He shimmies it from its place in the ground and slides it to the side, careful to keep the grating of metal over asphalt as quiet as possible. I stand back and watch, already anticipating the hollow feeling of returning home alone.

He pauses above the entrance to the sewers and glances back at me. There's a soft smile on his face—the sideways kind that he pulls off so well. His eyes hold mine, like he's expecting me to say something. But I can't. I just stand there and wait for him to leave, to drop off into his own world and out of mine.

And once more, his words take the form of my thoughts.

"It'll be different now," he says quietly. I simply nod. He hesitates, almost awkwardly, and he clenches his fingers at his sides.

"But like you said…it doesn't have to be a bad thing."

Why does my chest feel so tight? I can feel my bones creaking under the weight, beneath the strain of holding everything in. Why am I hurting so much?

"I'll still see you, right?"

And tighter still.

I make no response, and his smile fades to a look of concern. His eyes gleam in the dim streetlight, and he gets to his feet again and steps towards me.

"Karai…are you okay?"

I want to answer him, but I can't. I feel like if I open my mouth, I'll scream. It's not okay. It'll  _never_  be okay. My father won't stop until all of them are dead—and worse, if I don't obey his every word, I'll be at the end of his blade. There is nothing okay about the situation we've found ourselves in. I wasn't supposed to care about any of them… They were my enemies, my mission—nothing more.

But now…now he's the only friend I have.

"Karai?" He gets closer and reaches out to take my hand, but I step back and fold my arms behind me.

"It'll be war, Leo," I say quietly. "My father will be after you like never before…and he'll expect me to do the same."

He swallows and his eyes flash with a look of pain. "But it's always been like that. We've managed so far, haven't we?"

I scoff lightly. "So far, yes. But managing isn't a means to an end—it's simply prolonging the inevitable. In order for this to truly stop…someone's going to have to die."

He steps back a little. "What're you saying?"

I push a small breath out from my nostrils. "I'm saying that I won't be seeing you anymore."

He blinks. "…What?"

"I'm expected to kill you, Leo. And if they see that I have the chance and I turn it down, my father will kill me himself. So stay away from me, and I'll stay away from you, and no one will get caught in the crossfire."

The words are bitter coming from my mouth and like daggers going into him. My fists are clenched at my sides as I struggle to hide the tremor in my hands. I wish I didn't have to hurt him like this. I wish he could understand…

"You should go," I whisper. "Your family needs you now."

There's a look of deep pain that moves across his gaze, and the silence between us becomes heavy.

"Karai..." His voice is thick and low, tinged with an ache that hits me like a stone. I look away from him and wait for the rest of his response, for him to argue and protest. But he doesn't. Instead, he takes a step towards me, and all of the sudden, I feel his arms wrap around me. I stiffen instantly at the embrace.

"You're wrong," he whispers. "There's always another way…sometimes it's just harder to find."

I swallow thickly, mustering all the strength I have to keep from falling apart. He's just making this harder. He should know better by now that people like us don't have the luxury of 'finding another way.' We deal with what we're given, and that's that.

But he holds me a little longer, lost in his naïve world where everything can somehow be alright, and his arms tighten a bit before he steps back and lets go of me. A sudden chill seeps over me in the absence of his warmth.

"Thank you," he says lowly. "For everything…"

My throat closes up and I clench my jaw to hide the quiver.

"Goodbye, Leo."

The words feel like a gavel crashing down. A final decision, the last word; an ending. Like I've just severed the cord binding our worlds together, and now we're both bleeding out. His composure falters underneath the wound I've inflicted, and his brows knit ever so slightly.

"Yeah," he whispers, turning away. Bleeding, bleeding, bleeding. "Goodbye."

He withdraws towards the manhole, his wayward emotions hanging over him like a storm cloud, and he carefully slips down into the black. I listen to the faint thud of his weight on the metal rungs as he climbs down, but he stops a few steps in and pokes his head back up through the hole.

"Karai?"

I glance back at him, swallowing. He stares at me for a moment before that lopsided smile softens his features again.

"I take my goodbye back."

I almost choke on his name. "Leo—"

"You saved my life," he interrupts with a soft, firm voice. "Now I'm going to find a way to save yours."

And then he drops back down into the black, sliding the cover over his head as he goes. The clanking of metal falling back into place is the only thing to break the silence that swells in his absence. I stand there for a few minutes, staring at where he used to be. And then, feeling more alone and more confused than I ever have in my entire life, I turn on my heels, and walk back home.

~T~

{Leo}

The walk through the sewers is long and empty and nerve-racking. Karai's face burns in the back of my mind, and all the things I wish I had the guts to confess are still stuck in my throat. I should've said more. With all she's done for me, how could I not?

But she looked so hurt… She was ready to end our strange friendship, but I could see the pain in her eyes. The hesitation. I have no idea if anything I said to her got through, or if she even believed me. I probably just made it all worse. Her life's at stake, too—arguably more than mine is. And I keep pulling her back in to this mess because I'm too scared to let her go.

Selfish. That's what this is. I meant what I said about finding a way to save her, but I don't even know where to begin, and our lives are so insane, I could end up getting all of us killed just because I can't let this go. I should've let her end it… I'm putting her in danger, because she's right. Shredder will be after my family more than ever now, and if he ever finds out what Karai did for me…

I shudder at the thought, at the notion that my… _feelings_  for her could get her killed. I can't do that to her.

But…I can't just  _stop_  seeing her. She means too much to me, and even more so after the year I just spent with her. And this is all so pointless, all of it—it's just me desperately scrambling for a hold on something that can never be mine. I can get close, sure. I can see the real her, talk and smile and laugh with her, but in the end, every moment we've had is a stolen treasure…and we'll pay the price for it. In the end, we're just shadows: ghosts slipping in and out of one another's lives. And that's it. That's all the future holds for us until, like she said, someone dies. Whether it's me or my brothers or her or her father or my father, someone has to tip the balance, and the bloodshed won't just stop with that one life. It's not even  _that_  simple.

No…with my luck, the only way any of this will end is when all of us are dead.

I let out a sigh, rubbing my arms to try and relieve the tension building inside of me. I can't be having these thoughts…not now. My brothers are waiting for me. I'm supposed to be happy to see them, to come home. I can't spoil these precious moments with thoughts of our inevitably dark future.

I swallow down all of the blah-ness. I dig deep in my mind and tug up memories of better days—as many as I can until the dark whispers are drowned out by the smell of pizza and the sound of my brothers' laughter.

I sigh again.

_That's better. Just think of them._

_They_  are what matter.  _They_  are my anchor in this storm. Whatever our future holds, we'll face it together. That's something I can count on.

I keep walking, repeating the good memories over and over in my head until my entire body feels warm with nostalgia. My chest aches for my family, and I move with a new resolve, bent on collapsing into their arms and crying until all of the fear spills from me. They don't have to know—they don't even have to understand. They just have to be there when I fall.

I take deep breaths in rhythm with my steps as I go, trying to straighten out the whirlwind of my mind. I'm still trying to come up with the words in my head, but I'm failing miserably. I have no idea where to even begin, and I'm sure that my entire knowledge of speech will leave me when I stand face-to-face with my family again. There are some things that are simply beyond words.

It takes an eternity to reach the entrance to the lair, but even that feels far too short. I stand at the opening, in front of the familiar turnstiles that I've hopped over so many times before. It's dark—practically pitch black—but my mind makes shapes of the shadows and forms the image of my home as clear as day. For a moment, I don't move. Every thought of mobility seems to vanish from my brain, and the fear overwhelms me in a cold, flushing wave.

What if they're still angry? What will they think once they find out who I've been with the past year? Are they going to understand any of it? Are we ever going to be able to go back to the way it was before?

A shaky breath escapes me, and I swallow down the thoughts of fear. I break from the stupor enough to take a step forward. Slowly, I make my way back into my home. The familiar smells flood my senses, and memories begin to take shape and swim behind my eyes in a soft light.

Everything's quiet. It's probably around two in the morning now, so I doubt anyone's awake. I move through the living room in silent, uneven steps, but not even the pain of my limp is registering in my mind anymore. All I can think of is the ache in my chest, in that deep down part where I can never seem to reach. It's a cold, heavy kind of pain that sinks like stone inside of me. And with every step, it merely grows heavier.

I stop in front of the sliding doors. I just stand there, in the same spot I've stood before, staring down at the same groove my hand has grasped a hundred thousand times. I swallow hard and close my eyes for a moment, trying to gather myself. I can already feel my throat closing with all of the emotions swirling around within me. It's like a storm, a raging whirlwind that's threatening to drag me away into the nothingness. It hurts so badly, and I can feel myself falling apart.

What do I say? How do I explain myself? I left them—all of them—I just left them and I can't expect to return home in their loving arms without even addressing what I must've put them through in my absence. I can't…so how can I even face them now?

My hand is shaking as I reach for the groove. My fingers grasp the cool wood and I take a deep breath, bracing myself for what's to come. And then gently, I pull back, sliding the door open enough to slip inside.

It's even darker in here, but by now, my eyes have adjusted enough to see his body roll over and sit up the second the door shuts behind me.

I expect him to react, to brace himself for the possible threat, but in the darkness, his eyes glimmer and shine as they fall on me.

We both stare at each other. It could've been forever, but I know it isn't more than a few seconds as our hearts fill to the brim with all the things left unsaid. My insides are burning and all thought has turned to mush as an aching wave overwhelms me. He gets to his feet in a slow, tender manner, as if he can't believe what he's seeing. I wait for him to stand up completely, desperately trying to conceal the tremor in my bones. I take a step toward him, and then another, and another—and with each one, a piece of me breaks. I no longer care about what I should say; words don't matter. Not right now.

A strangled, broken gasp escapes me the second I reach him. I'm unable to hold it all inside any longer. I wrap my arms around his tall, strong frame, and I clench my eyes shut when he meets my embrace. The warmth of his hands on the back of my shell and the familiar scent of tea leaves flood my system and wash everything else away. Tears slip down my face as I clutch his robe, and my voice is thick with relief and a cold sorrow as I choke on the only word I can think to speak.

" _Father_."

He hugs me tighter, secure in every way, just as he's always been. I let myself collapse against him, knowing that he'll keep me on my feet, and I start to cry, silent and pained. It's the only thing I can do right now.

"My son," he whispers, his voice equally weighted with all the sorrow and joy I've brought trailing in behind me. "You've come home…"

I choke out a sob, nodding against him, my fingers pulling the fabric of his robe into my fists as if he could slip from my grasp at any moment. My mind has melted into a pool of memories, of words and smells and sights and sounds, of my father being the rock I could tether myself to when the world above was simply too much to bear. He's always been there…and even now, he says nothing, asks nothing—just simply holds me and lets me cry as I unravel at the seams. All of the ache and pain that I've shoved down in the past year has come bubbling up like a well, spilling and sloshing out all over the sides until the stones just give way beneath the force of it all. The memories I kept at bay for the sake of my sanity are no longer bound by my mind. Everything has broken free—and now, I'm drowning in it.

I don't know how long I'm standing there, sobbing into his robes like there's no tomorrow. I don't know if a millennia has passed us by, but I could care less. I'm here, he's here, and I'm home. Nothing else matters.

The words come slow, but eventually, I manage to find my voice beneath the haze of it all.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, sniffling. "F-For leaving—for everything—"

"You have  _nothing_  to apologize for, my son," he says firmly. He holds me tighter as if to assure me of his words, but inside, I'm breaking down. I have everything to apologize for. I left them—all of them—

"Your brothers told me of how you sacrificed yourself for their sake," he continues softly. "You did just as I asked…and more." He tilts my head up towards him. His eyes are shining with the threat of tears in the darkness. "One of the most important rules as a ninja, as a soldier, is to return alive. Not only did you save your brothers and this city…but you've come home. And that, my son, is a blessing—not something you should apologize for."

I swallow hard and look away. I wish I could convey all the things that are coursing through me. I wish he could see how sorry I am—I wish he could understand why it took me so long to come back. But my throat is shut tight and all the words are caught somewhere in-between.

He holds me for a moment more before pulling back again to face me.

"I have many questions, my son…ones I'm sure you will be able to answer soon." He lifts a hand to my cheek, and his thumb brushes away a stray tear. "But for the moment, there are some more important matters you must attend to."

I glance up at him, sniffling as I wipe the grime from my face with the back of my hand.

"Your brothers are in desperate need of you. You must go to them now, my son. There are many deep wounds that we must heal in this home."

I nod gravely and take a small step back, already feeling colder outside of his embrace. I want nothing more than to bury myself and fall asleep in his arms, but he's right. My brothers need me.

I reach the door when I hear him whisper behind me.

"Leonardo?"

I turn back to see him smiling softly at me, warmth shining from his misty eyes.

"Yes, Sensei?"

"I am proud of you, my son."

I swallow, noting the sting running through my eyes. I return the sincerity of his smile with one of my own before bowing deeply and slipping out of the room.

~T~

{Raph}

I'm sitting in the kitchen, alone in the dark, idly tapping my fingers along the table as I rest my head in the crook of my folded arms. It's late. Or early—I don't really know. But I couldn't sleep again, and I figured it'd be better to wait out here than in the emptiness of my room.

The others went to bed ages ago. I thought about trying to talk to Mikey or Donnie, to apologize or  _something,_ but I couldn't find the strength or the humility to do so.

Today was tense and awkward, and just when I thought I couldn't hate myself more, I realized the pit of self-loathing reached down far deeper than I could've ever imagined.

I stayed away from my brothers—from Splinter, too. I couldn't look them in the eye after last night. Mikey tried to get me to watch one of his shows with him after breakfast, but the second I saw that ugly gash across his lip and the line of dark stitches needed to pull the broken flesh together, I felt sick to my stomach. The bruises I left on him had darkened and turned a gruesome purple color, and I couldn't stand another millisecond of watching him try to make  _me_  feel better while bearing wounds that  _I_  delivered. The shame was too much. The guilt was even worse.

I'm honestly surprised they didn't tell Splinter about the fight. I guess I should be thankful that they're still willing to cover for me, even after what I did. But part of me wishes they had called me out. I deserve whatever punishment Sensei would've given me. Anything would have been better than see my brothers stitched up, knowing that it was all my fault.

I sigh and bury my face deeper into my arms, wishing I could just fold in on myself and vanish. I can't believe how far I've fallen since Leo died. I've never felt so miserable in my entire life, and it just keeps getting worse. I don't even have my family to lean on anymore. I've pushed them away, like every other good thing in my life.

I'm sick of feeling like this every day. I'm sick of myself, of the world—of the fact that I'm still too weak to overcome the pain of losing my brother. I hate that I'm taking it out on everyone else when there's nothing any of us could do about it. He's dead. That's it. Moving on is the only thing left to do.

…So why is it so difficult?

I'm just starting to doze off when the faint sound of Sensei's door sliding shut catches my ear. I sit up and glance towards the hallway, half expecting him to walk into the room and give me some long speech about loss and internal suffering. I've had my fair share of those in the past year, that's for sure.

I lay my head back down, clenching my eyes shut tight as if to block everything out. My senses are heightened, waiting for the sound of his voice to break the silence. I hear soft footsteps as he nears, but when the sound stops, I assume he's standing in the doorway, watching his son sulk in the darkness. I decide to speak up so he can go back to bed.

"You don't have to say anything, Sensei," I mutter, my voice slightly porous from lack of sleep. "I'm fine."

I wait for his response, but the voice that answers me strikes a chord somewhere deep in my chest.

"You sure, Raph?"

My heart seems to stop. My brow furrows, and my mind begins to churn at a million miles an hour—and yet, I can't form a single coherent thought.

Slowly, I sit up. Slowly, I turn my head around towards the doorway. And slowly, the world around me begins to dissolve.

He's standing there. His form is somewhat obscured by the darkness, but it's him—somehow, impossibly, it's him.

_No._

My breath is stuck between my lungs and my throat. My heart has stopped. Everything's stopped. I can't do anything but stare at him as my mind cracks and crumbles to dust.

_He can't be…_

But he is. He's right there—

_Or I've just gone nuts._

My throat is dry and I can't find the strength to say a single word. But he smiles that deep, sad, familiar smile, the kind only he can possess, and takes a step into the kitchen.  
"I know I can't just come back here like I wasn't gone," he starts quietly, wringing his wrists in front of his chest. "And I know you're probably angry with me…but I…"

He loses his words in a nervous flutter when I slide off the stool, and his voice hangs on the last sound, like he's forgotten how to speak.

"…I…"

The steps I take in his direction feel like they're stretched into eternities, and he can't seem to find the strength to finish what he was going to say. And suddenly, lifetimes later, I'm in front of him. I can see his throat work as he swallows nervously—he even backs up a little until his shell hits the wall.

"Raph, I—"

But I cut him off when I lift a hand to his face. He flinches slightly at the gesture, but the tension in his body seems to melt away when my fingers graze the rough skin of his cheek. There's scars—some deep and dark, and some barely there. His skin is a patchwork of different colors and textures, and his shell is littered with indentations and old fracture lines that are just beginning to heal. His rough appearance makes him seem older, more mature. I think he's grown a few inches, too.

He swallows again, and slowly, a warm smile softens his features. His eyes shine in the dim light as he touches the back of my hand and presses his face into my palm, sighing like a weight has been lifted from his chest.

"…I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice a little stronger now. "For leaving you alone."

I choke back a sob, and my hand slips from his jawline to the back of his head, pulling him close. Our foreheads touch, like they have a hundred thousand times before. But it's different now. Warmer, surreal, like I'm touching a ghost who's somehow here when he really shouldn't be.

"I  _missed_  you," I whimper, struggling to speak past the lump growing in my throat. He gives a little laugh, broken and soft, and he wraps his arms around the back of my shell and hugs me. I return the gesture, clinging to him for dear life. I'm trembling from head to toe, and my fingers graze down his neck and his shell, as if to make sure that he's actually here, that this isn't just a dream—that my brother has finally come home.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says reassuringly. He tightens his hold on me as if he's physically going to keep me from falling apart. I clench my jaw, quivering while I search through the murk of my thoughts for something to say, for words that could possibly describe what's happening inside of me. My voice is shaky and broken when I finally manage to open my mouth.

"… _Leo_ …"

And that's all I get out before I start crying. He holds onto me as I sob, and we stand there in the kitchen, and the world disappears around us until it's just me and the brother I thought I lost for good.

~T~

{Leo}

It's heartbreaking and wonderful all at the same time to see Raph like this. Seeing the mask of his rage lift to reveal all of the pain and heartache underneath…it's making me kick myself mentally for even thinking that their confusion and anger at my passing could ever outweigh the sheer joy of having their brother back.

_I should've come home months ago._

His arms are clamped around me, his face buried against my chest as he heaves out strangled sobs. My own eyes have welled up and begun to leak at the state of my brother. I knew they all cared…but I never thought he could hurt this much.

"I'm sorry." I say it again and again and again as I tighten the embrace, whispering the apology until the words sound like mush slipping from my tongue, until they no longer register as English in my brain. Apologies aren't enough to mend the gaping hole the past year has torn in all of us. No…it'll take a lot more. We'll cry and laugh and then cry some more. There'll be fights, questions, misunderstandings, and short bursts of anger flaring in-between the heartfelt moments like this, where all we can do is hold one another and sob because words aren't enough. It'll be long and difficult, but what Karai said was right. We'll be better off than we ever were. This is going to make us stronger.

His weeping finally descends into shallow breaths and soft hiccups as he fights to regain his composure. He wipes his face with his hand, smearing the tears and the mucus. His eyes are so tired and puffy, but there's a little bit of light in them still. A light that seems to glow when he looks at me.

He pulls away, but not enough to break our embrace. His hands grasp my shoulders and our eyes lock.

"It still doesn't feel real," he whispers. His voice is hoarse and dry, and he swallows repeatedly. "You…being here…" His brow knits. "Does Sensei know?"

I nod. "I found you in here after leaving his room."

He nods and sniffles, rubbing his eye a little bit. "A-And what about Mikey and Donnie?"

I shake my head. "Just you and Sensei so far…"

He swallows again, and an overwhelming look of shame cloaks his gaze. His jaw clenches and his throat works, and then he leans his forehead back against my chest.

"I…I've messed it all up, Leo," he whispers thickly. "Everything…it just all fell apart… And it's my fault…"

I throw my arm around his shell and rest my chin atop his head, pulling him closer.

"It's my fault, Raph," I say quietly. "I left you…all of you. I started this."

He sniffles again and shakes his head against my chest. "No, no—you don't get it… I…I fought with them…hurt them…pushed them away… I've screwed up our family because I couldn't get over losing you… A-And I'm blamed them because I blamed myself, and now we're all just a bunch of broken pieces…" He heaves out a trembling breath. "I wasn't strong enough to keep us together…like you would've wanted."

I think back to what Karai said, about them fighting in the alley. I think about Raph hitting Mikey and hurting Donnie, and in my head, I can see it all. The rage boiling off of him, the frustration, the pain, the confusion—all of it melting and spilling between them as they each struggled to deal with my death in their own, dysfunctional way. And I wonder for a moment if I would've been any better.

"I was scared to come back," I start softly. He looks up at me, and I hesitate for a moment, counting the thumps in my chest. "I was scared that you'd be angry…for me dying and leaving all of you behind. I-It was easier being dead, and I used my fears as an excuse to hide from everything…just because I didn't think I'd be strong enough to face you. And that—that was stupid of me. I was just being weak, and I…" I sigh heavily, my throat working as I struggle to give a voice to the words. "Can you….can you forgive me?"

He watches me for a moment—a nerve-wracking moment. But then his expression melts into one of love and relief, so absolute and real that it honestly gets to me. He lets out a broken chuckle, strained by all of his crying, and he punches my shoulder lightly.

"Shut up, Fearless," he teases, grinning in a way that lights up his tired eyes. "There's nothing to forgive. You came home…and that's all that matters."

A warm smile finds its way to my lips, and I exhale, releasing all of the worry and stress in that one breath.

"We have a lot of work to do," I assure softly. "And it's not going to be easy…but we'll make it." I pull back and look him in the eye. "We'll fix our family."

A faint smile breaks the exhaustion etched into his face, and he nods with a glimmer of hope in his gaze.

"Yeah," he whispers, patting my shoulder. "Now come on. Let's go get our brothers."

* * *

 


	8. Home (Part Two)

 

* * *

{Donnie}

"Hey…Donnie…"

I'm tugged up from my dreams like a fish on a hook. I can feel reality pulling me out of the waters of my sleep, and I fight it vigorously, refusing to give up the peace of my subconscious at this ridiculous hour. But then the poking starts.

I groan and roll over, tugging the blankets up to shield my face from the intrusion. It's way too early and I'm exhausted. Honestly, Mikey knows better than to wake me up unless it's absolutely necessary…

"Donnie…come on…"

I grumble something indistinct and probably not even in English as I swat the hand away from my face.

The poking suddenly stops, and I snuggle my face back into the blankets, content on falling back asleep when—

_THUMP._

The sheets are ripped out from under me and I go sprawling from the couch to the living room floor. I sit up with a gasp, my senses heightened in an unwelcome rush of adrenaline. My eyes snap to the brother at fault and my mouth opens in preparation for an angry lecture, but my words are suddenly caught in my throat at the sight of Leo standing over me, his hand on his hip and an amused expression etched onto his face.

"Do you want your eggs scrambled or over-easy?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. I can't speak, much less breathe, so I sit there on the floor in a mess of sheets and shock.

_It can't be—_

But it is—

_But he's dead. He blew up—we all watched it happen—_

But he's here—

 _But_ how?!

His voice interrupts me. "Hey, Donnie? You okay? You're kinda pale…"

I can't even manage to swallow. I've got to be dreaming. I  _have_ to be! This is insane!

_It's not real, I'm just crazy. It's a lucid dream—yeah, I'm just in my REM stage and that pizza Mikey made last night is effecting my senses—_

"Leo!" Mikey's voice rings from the kitchen, and I can just barely see him poke his head out from the doorway from where I am on the floor. "Did Donnie say how he wanted his eggs? 'Cause they're kinda just sitting there…"

"He's not exactly 'responsive' right now," Leo calls back, arching a brow at me. "I think he's in shock."

I need to slap myself or something, and I would if I could get my body to listen to my brain, but the connection seems to be severed at the moment.

And it definitely doesn't help when Mikey comes bouncing in and just about tackles Leo with an energetic hug.

"Isn't it great, D?" he squeals, wrapping his arms and legs around Leo, who's struggling to hold the weight. "Leo's back! He totally got us, dude! Best—prank— _ever!_ " He hugs him even tighter. "Well, I mean, that whole 'being dead for a year' thing really sucked…but everything's fine now!"

Leo winces a little at the force of Mikey's embrace, but our youngest finally lets up and bounces back on the balls of his feet, his face lit up with excitement.

"He's home!"

"Mikey!" Raph shouts. "Something's burning in here and it better not be mine—"

"Ah!" Mikey jumps up and bolts right back into the kitchen, his voice trailing behind him. "I'll just scramble your eggs, D!"

Leo chuckles to himself, but I just can't stop staring. He's here…he's  _here_ …

He looks back down at me and offers a hand. It takes me forever to get my limbs to respond, but eventually, I reach for it, and he helps pull me up. He feels real…warm and gentle…even if his skin's a bit rougher than it was before.

"The genius is speechless," he teases. "You know, for a ninja, you sleep like a dead person. Mikey was jumping all around and squealing his head off, and you just kept on snoring." He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "We've really gotta work on that, 'cause if something happened and you just slept through it, we'd be in huge trouble—"

"How?" It's all I can get out, but even with that, my voice breaks, like it can't handle a single word.

His smile vanishes in a split second, and slowly, his body slumps, and he sighs. The light-heartedness of his composure simply washes away in the presence of my question.

"It's, uh…it's a long story." I must be giving him a look, because he raises his hands innocently. "I'll tell it, don't worry—just…not right now, okay? I just want to be… _here_ …with you guys. Like we used to."

I still can't believe it. I just…I can't…

"It's been over a year," I whisper stiffly. "You've been gone for  _over a year_."

He swallows, and the snorts and giggles emanating from the kitchen are lost to us.

"I know…and I'm sorry. I just…I mean, I was recovering, and it took so long, and I was just scared to face all of you after all that time…" He sighs heavily. "I'm sorry, Donnie. Really…"

My eyes read him like a book, pulling facts from his skin, from his eyes, his posture, the limp in his leg—everything is dissected and assembled in my mind as I try to put it all together. The electricity from the conduits alone should've killed him—not to mention the explosion, exposure, infection—pretty much  _everything_  that could go wrong should've gone wrong. But here he is.

"You're going to tell me everything," I say firmly. He swallows again and nods, rubbing his arm nervously. I can feel his discomfort coming off of him in waves, but I can't keep myself from voicing my anger.

"Honestly, Leo, you have no idea what it was like to come back here without you. I mean, we had to tell Splinter that we let his son  _die_ —do you have  _any_  idea what that was like?" I feel myself heating up, spurred on by the bitterness in my gut, by the tenderness in my chest. The words pour out with fervor, like fluids oozing from an old wound that's been wrenched open again.

"Do you know how awful it was to go to sleep every night and see the same thing over and over and over again? To wonder what we could've done differently, how we could've saved you? A-And then, a whole freaking year goes by before you just  _show up_ , and the first thing you ask me is how I want my eggs?!" He winces at my accusations, but I don't care if I'm hurting him. In fact, I want to hurt him.

"How is that fair?" I shout. "How could you just-just—"

"Donnie?" Something in his voice hits me like a sledgehammer. The way he says my name is so broken, like he's pleading for me to stop, like he'll break if I stand here and tell him how hard he made it on us. My heated speech skids to a stop and crumbles over on itself, and the words are lodged somewhere in my throat. I try to swallow them down, but seeing the look on his face only makes it worse. He comes back from the dead, and here I am lecturing him for being dead in the first place.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

My brow knits and I heave the rest of my words out in a sigh. His eyes are misty with the threat of tears, and I can feel the regret, the guilt, the shame and the fear seeping from him.

_I'm such an idiot._

I don't waste any time reaching for him and pulling him into a tight embrace. He's shaking a little, but after a tense moment, he hugs me back, and I can feel that well of emotions breaking forth. An entire year's worth of pain, bitterness, guilt, uncertainty, and that horrid, aching sadness—and here he is to take it all away.

_But he can't._

And I'm so thankful, but I'm so angry, and those two conflicting emotions clash and create a massive storm inside of me that threatens to tear me apart. I still can't believe that he's actually here, in front of me, held in my arms like he never left.

_He's here…_

But…why?

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice trembling. "I-I can't imagine what it's been like for you—for all of you—and I'm so—"

I cut him off by tightening the embrace. "Shut up," I mutter hoarsely. "Okay? Just…just stop talking…"

I don't want him to say anything. I don't think I could bear it if he did. I just need to ground myself in his presence, to drown out the shock and pain of this nightmare with the reality he's brought with him. I don't want to hear explanations or apologies. I just want to stand here and know that this is real. That he's come home.

The silence between us is filled with what words could never say. And I'm trying, I really am, but even as I cling to my brother, the bitterness remains. The memories of our time spent without him linger in my mind, reminding me of what I've had to endure under the weight of my brother's absence. And I can't be mad at him for being gone…but I am. Somehow, some deep dark piece of me is clutching those resentful feelings like a vice, and I can't let go. I don't know how. Because how can he expect to just show up and have everything fall back into place?

He can't. Surely, he can't. We learned to adapt to his death; we forced ourselves to push past it. The wound, however deep, has scarred over. He can't just show up and rip it back open.

But that's exactly what he's done.

I'm not sure how long we're standing there, locked in that quiet, tense embrace, but I'm not paying attention. I hold onto him for dear life as I try to fight the torrent of unpleasant thoughts, scrambling to find some sort of comfort in his warmth. But it isn't enough to calm the storm within me.

It isn't until Mikey starts hollering for us that we break our hold on one another. We both step back, and I refrain from saying anything as I fight to bury the dark thoughts rapidly forming in my mind. It helps a little when he gives me that sad smile—that  _Leo_  smile—and gives my arms a reassuring squeeze. I wince at the pressure he's exerting on my injury, and his eyes widen.

"Sorry," he says quickly, removing his hands from the sore area. His brow furrows. "Can I see it?"

I pause for a split second before I offer my arm to him. He turns it gently, inspecting the stitched up wound.

"It's deep," he mutters absently. "Did it bleed a lot?"

I give a slow nod as the memory flashes behind my eyes. More pain…

 _Because of him_.

"…Did you say anything to Raph about it?" I inquire after a moment of him prodding the tender flesh.

He merely shakes his head. "No… He was crying a bunch—I could tell he felt guilty. And it didn't seem right, you know…to come home and yell at him for it."

I nod, swallowing. I'm still sore over it—in more ways than one, as Mikey would say—but I know how deep my brother suffers from his emotions. It's not an excuse, though.

"Is Mikey okay?" he whispers. "I saw his lip. It looked…bad."

I sigh, trying to shove down that awful image of Raph smacking Mikey into the trash cans. "He's fine. You know…he handles everything better than the rest of us." I allow myself to chuckle, though it feels forced. "His idea of getting back at Raph was to eat his last slice of pizza."

Leo laughs, his scarred face breaking into that bright, beaming smile that makes him look a million times younger.

 _I've missed that smile_.

He shakes his head, grinning, and puts his hands on his hips with a sigh. "Oh, Mikey. Never fails to amaze me, that's for sure."

I nod. "Yeah…he made everything better…"

_While you were gone._

Leo seems to catch my unspoken words, because his expression turns somber once more. I'm sure he can connect the dots. He has to know that our relationship as brothers has been broken. As close as Mikey is to me, Raph is that much further away. I'm not sure how long it will take to get everything back to the way it was before. I don't think we can ever be that way again.

"Come on," he says softly, disrupting my thoughts. "I'm starving."

The breath I release doesn't help to relieve the weight settling in my chest.

 _Just focus on him_ , I chide.  _He's back, after all…_

I should be happy. And part of me is… It's the other part that's not so sure. Something's wrong.

"Okay," I mutter, trying desperately to keep the bitterness from my voice. I'm probably failing. "But you're still going to tell me where you've been."

"Yeah…of course." He glances down. "And, uh…I'll need you to help fix my leg." He flexes said limb, but I've already picked out the issues.

"Yeah, you're tibia's screwed up," I say. "Looks like a gnarled tree stump."

He was injured. His leg broke, his skin was burned, his shell cracked…

So how did he survive? He couldn't have healed on his own. And he's been gone for so long…

"A tree stump?" he repeats, frowning at the remark. I shrug, forcing a smile and throwing an arm around his shoulder.

_Leo…_

I put on a happy face—the kind of expression one would expect of me—but inside, it's raining. My mind is a whirlwind of questions and answers I'm too afraid to explore.

_Where have you been?_

"Don't get butt-hurt," I mutter as we make our way towards the kitchen. "I can fix it."

He breathes a sigh of relief. "Good."

I glance at his leg again, noting the way he limps as he walks, and my lips tug down into a thoughtful frown. "But…I am going to have to break it again."

"Oh, come _on_!"

~T~

{Mikey}

He's back, he's back,  _holy cow_ , my brother's come home!

I can't stop smiling. Or laughing. Or being just down-right obnoxious. But you know what? I don't care! 'Cause Leo's freaking back from the dead!

Today was the first day in  _months_  that we've all eaten together. Splinter, Raph, Donnie—everybody, sitting at the table, just like before, laughing and joking and enjoying the company of the brother we all thought we lost for good.

It was amazing. No, it was  _more_  than amazing. I wanted to just die right there—but in a good way. When Leo showed up this morning, I seriously thought I was dreaming. And even still, hours later, I have to keep pinching myself to make sure that I really am awake.

There's a million questions swirling around in my mind. I have no idea how he's still alive, or where he's been all this time, or why he didn't come back earlier—but honestly, right now, I don't care.

He's home, and we're a family again. That's good enough for me.

"Just letting you know, Leo," I start as I lead him to the arcade system. "I've totally crushed your high score."

"No way!" he laughs. "You always got stuck on the level before the boss!"

"Yeah, well, I've had a whole year to practice without you showing me up."

I say the words brightly, but there's a cloud above them. Something heavy and sore. I've noticed a few times since Leo got back that sometimes, certain words or phrases kind of hurt to say or hear. And none of us mean anything by it. It just…comes out. Like at breakfast, when Raph mentioned something about training last week and Donnie brought up that movie we watched a month ago. The words seemed harmless enough, but there's something  _in_  them that kind of pushes Leo out. And I can see it on his face, too. He feels out of place, and every time one of us says something about the past year, he gets this look on his face, because he doesn't know what we're talking about. He wasn't here. And even though he's here now, there's still a chunk out of our lives that he can never be a part of. Days and weeks and months that he'll only ever hear about. Memories he won't be in. And I'm trying to catch myself before I say anything that might hurt him, but it's hard to shut an entire year of my life from conversation—especially because I talk a lot.

I glance back briefly at him as we walk, and sure enough, there's that gleam of pain in his eyes. He recovers quickly, sure, but it still hurts to see.

"Come on," I press, hoping I can run over that awkward moment by ushering him into a new one. I switch the game on and hurry him into his place at the control system. The screen lights up and the scores are the first thing to blink into existence.

"400,000?" he questions incredulously. "How the heck did you get 400,000?"

"I told you bro," I smirk. "Practice. Lots and lots of practice."

It's an understatement, really. Distractions like these were the only thing that kept me grounded while our family fell apart. I needed an escape, and even though Donnie would always lecture me about how "mindless" my video games and TV shows were, I'd never tell him that "mindless" was exactly what I wanted. I didn't want to think or feel, 'cause it hurt too much. Needless to say, it didn't take me that long to beat Leo's high score.

But I don't mention any of that. I just stand there, smiling and laughing and pointing as I watch him struggle through the game he used to be so good at.

"Man, you suck at this," I tease. He growls a little, punching at the buttons.

"I don't remember it being this stupid," he mutters.

"Don't hate the game, dude. Hate the player!"

"The player is  _me_ , Mikey," he growls. "And I think you have that backwards."

"Really?" I frown and tug open the bag of chips I brought with me from the kitchen. "Huh, that's what Raph always says…"

"Yeah," he scoffs. "Well Raph's got everything backwards." His brow knits in concentration for a few minutes while he finally clears level two.

"Mikey?" he asks.

I pop a chip into my mouth. "'Sup?"

"What was it like? You know…while I was gone."

I frown again and swallow down the cheesy mush. "You missed that power-up on the last floor. You're gonna need it if you wanna get past the first boss-dude."

"I'll go back for it," he grumbles, obviously annoyed that I dodged his question. But I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to hurt him by telling him how awful it was while he was gone. He already feels bad—why make it worse?

But he seems bent on getting it out of me, because he keeps asking.

"Come on, Mikey," he says. "You can talk to me. It's not like I can't see the stitches on your face or the ones on Donnie's arm." He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer. "You don't have to spare my feelings, you know."

I set the chips down on the side of the gaming system. They suddenly taste like cardboard.

"I don't wanna talk about it, Leo," I mutter. "Can we just play the game and hang out?"

He gets that sad look again, and he's distracted enough to lose one of his lives to the stupid skull with the eye lasers.

"Mikey…" he starts. Then he sighs and tries it again. "I don't want to make you talk about it if you really don't want to…but I need to know what happened. So we can fix it."

My expression slumps, along with my shoulders, and I exhale heavily. "Fine. But you better keep playing."

He nods, flitting his eyes back to the screen. "Got it."

I push out a breath and lean against the system as my mind wanders back.

"It…it just…sucked."

Man, this is harder than I thought it'd be. But reliving the past year is  _not_  something I want to do. Especially with Leo here. I mean, he's not dead. He's home. So why even remember the pain of him being gone when he's right in front of me?

But he wants to know…and it makes sense that he'd ask me, since Donnie and Raph have been arch-enemies. Their stories would be one-sided. Or bias, as Donnie would say.

"Everyone was really weird and quiet…" I whisper. "Master Splinter cried a lot."

His fingers tense at that, and he gets hit with another laser. I almost think he's going to stop, but he keeps playing like I asked, so I keep talking.

"At first, none of it seemed real. You died…and we came home alone…and we fell asleep alone…and then we woke up alone. It was like some bad dream that we kept expecting to end." My eyes burn as all those dark, deep feelings come bubbling up again. "But it didn't."

I don't want to keep going, 'cause I'm scared that if I remember how much it hurt, I'll hold something against Leo. I can tell Donnie and Raph do, even if it's just a little bit. I don't want to be angry with him for being gone. I don't want to feel that bitterness, that confusion, that ache. Not now that he's home.

But I keep going for his sake.

"After a month or so, Splinter got better. It's like he woke up or something, because he started to train us again and he tried to bring us together, like we were before. But we all knew it wasn't like it was before—that it could  _never_  be what it was before—because there was one less of everything. One less voice, one person at the table, one less person fighting over the TV in the morning." My eyes mist over as my mind drops down into that darkness, where everything was so strange. And wrong. It was all so wrong.

"I-I remember how long it took me to stop making so much food. You know…for dinner and stuff. I kept forgetting that there'd be one less person eating, and I…" I take a deep breath, fighting the tremor in my hands. I force out a chuckle, but it's broken. "I'd always set out a place for you at the table, and Raph would tell me to knock it off. He got so mad one time, we actually had a fight about it. But Donnie was there to get him off my back… He kinda took over…"

_After you left._

I clear my throat, as if that could help at all, and I keep going—even though his hands are

shaking way too much to dodge any of the laser blasts.

"We had to change all of our katas, our stretches, our exercises—the whole training system. I mean, there was only three of us, so Splinter had to come up with different things to keep us distracted." I manage to laugh a little. "Like we didn't notice how quiet the room was without you standing there correcting us."

I see him smile at that out of the corner of my eye, but it's that sad smile.

"It…it felt like we were trying to cover up this hole, but none of us could do it. We all kept stretching and stretching until we just…broke." I swallow. "That's when it got really bad. Especially between Donnie and Raph. They'd fight all the time, but it wasn't like… _normal_  fighting. It was mean."

_And I hated it._

"So Donnie took over," he says quietly, his eyes on the screen. But I don't think he's really paying attention to the game anymore. He's had to start over twice now.

"That's odd… I thought it'd be Raph."

I just shake my head. "Me too. But he…he kinda lost it. Took it out on us, like he didn't know what to do. And I tried to be there for him…but he wouldn't let me."

I grimace as those nights come back to me. Standing outside his door, praying that for once, he'd let me in. But every single night, he turned me away. He spent all that time crying by himself, in the dark, when all I wanted to be able to do was cry together, as a family. Like we're supposed to.

Leo sighs, playing with much less enthusiasm now that I've gone and dropped my bomb of depression on him.

"Mikey," he starts shakily. "I'm so sorry…for leaving you guys like that. Hearing what you went through…it's just…"

"Hey," I interrupt. "It doesn't matter anymore, Leo. You're here now—that's what we need. And all this talking about what it was like isn't going to help anybody, 'cause it doesn't matter. You can't keep beating yourself up for what happened while you were gone; that's all on us. If we didn't handle it that great, then that's our fault. You can't take the blame for us being a mess."

I can see that dark, sad look in his eyes still, so I lean on his shoulder and offer a warm smile. "Honest, Leo, I'm fine now. We're all fine now."

He blinks, sniffling lightly. "Really?"

"Really," I say brightly. "Now come on, enough icky-blah talk about our feelings. What's  _really_ important here is how horrible you are at this game, because that was pathetic. I mean, level five? Seriously? What kind of ninja are you anyway?"

His expression melts into a chuckle as I nudge him away from the controls and crack my knuckles.

"Now watch the master work some magic!"

~T~

{Donnie}

I can hear Leo and Mikey laughing and shouting at the gaming system in the living room. I'm in my lab, cleaning up some of my notes and organizing the medical cabinets as I listen to my brothers. It's nice that our home sounds normal again.

I'm just about done shuffling through my studies on mutagen when Raph steps through the doorway. I look up at him, instinctively bracing myself for some kind of fight, but he keeps his eyes downcast and awkwardly stops a few feet from me.

"Uh, Donnie?" he says quietly. He rubs the back of his neck the way he always does when he has no idea what to say. I eye him warily before setting down the stack of papers by the medicinal jars on the counter.

"Yeah?"

He hesitates and pushes a frustrated breath through his nostrils. "I'm, um… I'm sorry."

I arch a brow, my head tilting in confusion.

"What?"

He's flexing his fingers at his sides, curling an uncurling his fists as he searches for the words.

"I said I'm sorry," he says again, a little sharper. "For being such a pain lately."

Something in my chest lifts, but I still have to refrain from backing up when he steps closer to me. My breath has gotten stuck somewhere between my lungs and my nasal cavity and I don't know what to say—especially when he leans his forehead against my chest and just sort of stands there with his arms hanging limply at his sides.

 _Oh,_  I think quickly.  _It's that thing he does when he wants someone to hug him. Right._

And so I do. Awkwardly, mostly because the only time we ever really touch now is when we're beating the crap out of each other. I haven't hugged anyone but Mikey for the longest time, and Raph's been so hostile lately that my brain has rewired itself to see him as a threat to my physical well-being.

But I put my arms around him anyway—loosely, mind you—and we both just sort of stand there. I'm waiting for him to return the embrace or say something rude, but he doesn't.

Leo and Mikey start cracking up about some outside joke on the other side of the wall, and the bubbly sound prods at the awkward silence that has settled over Raph and I.

"It's nice to have Leo back," I mutter absently, just to break the tension. But something about that makes him choke up, because he suddenly latches onto me and buries his face into my chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, sniffling. "I'm sorry for everything I said to you yesterday—for blaming you, and for cutting your arm, and for always being such a brat—I just-I just didn't know what to do…"

He trails off, his words pulled beneath his crying. I keep my arms around him, but my brow's furrowed and my brain can't think of anything smart. He never gets like this around me. Around Leo, sure—but me? Heck no. What am I supposed to do? Is he going to hit me if I say something wrong?

"…It's okay," I say slowly, cautiously, like I'm tiptoeing through a mine field. "You were just hurt—"

"No," he whimpers. "That's not—that's not it. I thought I hated you for what you did… I couldn't understand why you'd just let Leo die like that, and I was—I was so angry and—" He chokes on another sob and hugs me tighter, like he's trying to escape from everything else.

"B-But I knew…" he whispers. "I knew that you were stronger than me—you and Mikey—and I hated that, too… I couldn't move on, and when I saw you take the lead, I was angry—with you, with myself… Because I couldn't do that. I wasn't strong enough to do what you did… And all those times I yelled at you or hit you, I was just taking it out on you...trying to make myself feel better, trying to trip you up… And…and I'm sorry, Donnie…"

My throat works as I scramble for the words. I've never been good at these moments, and I don't know what he wants me to say. I mean, I'm grateful for the apology, and though it doesn't really erase any of the pain he's inflicted on me this past year, I know that he's at least sorry for it. That counts for something. And with Leo back, we can finally start picking up the pieces we threw everywhere.

"It's okay," I whisper as warmly as I can. "..And I'm sorry, too. We both could've done things differently, and I certainly didn't help by trying to take the reins when we weren't ready." I gently pull him from me, but he still won't make eye contact.

"Listen," I start, slightly eager to get out of this awkward moment. "There's something I have to talk to Leo about... And I think you should go see Mikey. He's the one who you really have to apologize to."

His gaze darkens and blurs with the threat of tears, but he nods. "Yeah… I guess I do."

"Good." I pat him on the shell. "Can you tell Leo I need to see him when you go out there?"

He wipes the tear streaks from his tired face and gives another soft nod. I feel bad, like I've ruined some huge emotional moment for him, but I don't know what he was looking for when he came in. I think this past year has been proof enough that I have no idea what to do with an emotional Raphael.

I get back to putting my notes into their folders on the shelf, and he stands there for another uncomfortable moment before shuffling towards the door. I pause, clenching my jaw and cursing myself under my breath.

_I can't be this dense._

"Raph?" I call.

He turns back. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." I take a breath. "I'm not… _good_  at things like this. But I do forgive you, you know. For all the stuff that happened between us. I'm not mad."

_Well, I'll try not to hold it against you._

There's a faint trace of a smile on his lips. "Thanks, Donnie…" He swallows, clearing his throat. "But don't think this means I'll go easy on you during training, 'cause I'm still gonna beat your shell into the ground."

I laugh like I'm supposed to. "I'll try to remember that."

He smirks in that devilish "Raph" manner and pushes his way out of the door, leaving me to wait for Leo.

I force out a breath and lean against the counter, rubbing my temples with my fingers as my façade melts away. Today is becoming too much for me. With all of the good it's brought, there's only that much more confusion. I mean, part of me is happy. Leo's home and Raph's trying to fix what he's broken; that's all I've been wanting for an entire year. But there's this other side to it all. I can't just forget all of the pain we went through. Leo coming home doesn't erase any of the crap I've had to deal with, and it doesn't take away the memories of all the sleepless nights and tears. And it doesn't feel fair in my mind that Raph expects to just apologize for being a jerk and have everything be okay again. The only  _real_  reason he's even apologizing is because Leo's home, but what if he wasn't? Would Raph keep acting like a child? Would our fighting continue or get even worse?

I don't know… I think I just feel cheated. I've had this weight on my shoulders for so long now, and now everyone's just expecting me to let it go. I've never been good at forgiving—Master Splinter has commented on my grudge-holding many times before. But I can't simply forget, and mere apologies are certainly not enough to make everything okay again.

Is that all I get for holding out an entire year? Does all of my hard work come down to being swatted away by something as superficial as "I'm sorry"?

I sigh, groaning inwardly. I'm probably overthinking this. I need to just soak in the good feelings and try to block out the bad. Maybe I'm a terrible person for holding things against my own brothers like I do, or maybe I'm just too stubborn to let the injustice be scraped from the slate. Whatever it is, I know it'll fade in time, and I'm hoping Leo can clear some things up for me.

But in the back of my mind, I fear his story will just complicate things more.

~T~

{Leo}

"Donnie?" I call, nudging my way into the lab. The door sways shut behind me and I see my brother behind his desk adjusting the shelves. He glances my way and nods in acknowledgement as I limp over to his study.

"Raph said you wanted me," I say idly. "Uh, we're not breaking my leg now, are we? 'Cause I don't really—"

"Relax, Leo," he chides. "We'll to that when you're ready. I don't you want to spend your first few days home stuck in bed."

"Yeah," I chuckle nervously. "I've had my fair share of being pent up lately."

His brow arches. "Which brings us to the discussion at hand…" He slides the last few notebooks into their place on the shelves behind him and turns to face me, crossing his arms and leaning against the unit. He gestures to the chair on the opposite side of the study with a dip of his head.

"You should probably sit down."

 _You're the one who should sit down,_  I think comically. Boy, when they find out where I've been…

I do as he says, wincing a little as I reposition my bad leg to a more comfortable spot. I lean back in the chair, gazing up at him from across the table.

"It'll probably save us some time if I tell you that I don't really remember much," I confess slowly. He watches me, intelligence flickering behind his eyes. Man, that look makes me a nervous wreck.

"You don't remember the explosion, or how you got off the ship?" he asks. I simply shake my head. He purses his lips. "Okay, so what  _do_  you remember?"

I swallow, thinking back. It's difficult to reach that far, mostly because all of my memories of what happened are basically mush after the blast, and the moments before are hazy at best.

"We were…on the Kraang ship," I start carefully. Each word is another puzzle piece I'm struggling to find a place for. "I remember getting April out. And arguing. I remember that." I pause, my brow tugging down into a tight frown. "And then…you guys left…and I was alone."

 _That's_  something I'll never forget. Standing there, my world consumed by fire and smoke and carnage as I faced my death by myself—it's as burned into my mind as my instinct to breathe.

"I fought with Kraang Prime—that's when the explosion happened. After that…nothing."

He tilts his head. "Nothing?"

"Nope. Just a lot of darkness and blurry, gray mush."

"So how are you still here?" he asks. "If the explosion knocked you out, how'd you survive the ocean without drowning or something?"

I swallow again, hesitating. My fingers clench at my sides.

"I didn't…" I take a deep breath. "Someone else found me."

His eyes widen ever so slightly, and the gears turn behind them as he scrambles for a logical answer.

"Who?" he urges.

_Here we go…_

I look up at him. "…Karai."

He blinks once, and then again. "Wait…what?"

A mere shrug is all I have to offer. "Karai found me."

"Karai," he repeats dumbly. His fingers go straight to his temples, and he starts pacing. "So…you were with  _Karai_  this whole time."

_Oh, boy._

" _Karai_ ," he says again, sharper now. And angry. "The girl who handed April over to Shredder? The girl who's tried to kill us—and you—on a consistent basis—Shredder's _daughter_ —you're telling me that  _she's_  the one you've been with?"

I just nod. "…Yep."

I was prepared for opposition. I was prepared for anger, for confusion. But I'm in no way prepared when he pulls back his fist and punches me across the face.

~T~

{Donnie}

I don't mean to hit him. I don't mean to knock him out of his chair or tackle him to the floor, either. But my mind's going at a million miles an hour, and all the bitterness from before comes surging up the back of my throat, heating my whole body with a buzzing warmth as my thoughts grate against one another.

_He's been with her this entire time—_

"Donnie!" he shrieks. "Donnie, stop!"

_This whole year, and he couldn't even let us know he was alive—_

"Donnie!"

I've got him pinned to the floor. I've hit him twice now, and he's bleeding from his mouth, his eyes wide with confusion and terror as he shouts for me to stop. But I can't. I just  _can't_.

"Where were you?" I snap, my mental state quickly tipping into the black. It's all I can do to keep my hands from his throat. "Where have you been hiding this whole time?"

"A warehouse!" he gasps. "B-By the docks!"

I don't mean to—I really don't—but my fist flashes across his vision again and his head snaps to the side with a pained yelp.

"The docks?" I snarl, incredulous and angry. So very, very angry. "You're telling me that you've been five miles— _five freaking miles_ —from your own family this whole time, and you never once sent us word that you were alive?"

"D-Donnie," he whispers, his eyes blurry with thick tears. "Donnie, I—"

"Shut up!" I shout. My own eyes are blurring with the absurdity of it all.

_Five miles. Five miles from his home._

"All you had to do was send us a message!  _Anything_  would have been better than to leave us in the dark!"

He twists underneath me, fighting to crawl away, but he's gotten so weak, and I'm in that state of mental darkness where all I have is the pain and the rage and the bitterness—

_He left us—_

Everything I've kept bottled in over the past year has suddenly burst forth—

_He left us here—_

And I hit him again and again and again—

_He just left when he could've come home—_

"DONNIE!"

A hand snatches my wrist and yanks me off of Leo's body.

_Raph._

His green eyes are wide and full of shock and terror and anger. He slams me into the floor and holds me down while Mikey rushes to Leo's side.

"What the shell is your problem?!" Raph shouts, digging his knee into my plastron. The anger is still hot in my system, and with a strangled grunt, I shove him off of me and push myself to my feet.

I jab my finger in Leo's direction, and Mikey crouches protectively in front of him.

"Why don't you ask him?" I snap. My fists are balled up at my sides and I'm almost shaking. "He's been at the docks with Karai this whole time!"

Raph and Mikey's eyes widen slightly at the accusation, but their gaze is still locked on me.

"Well you know what, Leo?" I yell sharply. "If all we are to you is something that you  _have_  to come back to, then just leave!" I turn on my heels and stomp off for the door, shoving it open as I go. "We were fine without you anyway!"

It swings shut behind me, cutting me off from the rest of my family. I walk away, leaving my eldest brother a crying, bleeding mess on the floor, and my heart is in my throat and my world has melted to nothing.

With every step, my body feels heavier, and my mind is dropped further and further into that raging pit of despair and confusion.

How could he do that? How could he leave us alone for so long when he was  _right there_ —

"Donatello."

Sensei's voice is barely audible in the rushing madness of my head. Through my blurred vision, I see him standing in front of me, but I merely move past him, going nowhere fast.

His hand reaches out and grabs me by the shoulder, tugging me back.

"S-Sensei—" I go to protest, but he pulls me into him in a tight embrace, burying my face in the soft fur of his neck as he rests his chin atop my head.

"Silence, my son," he says gently, despite the fact that I've no doubt he heard exactly what just transpired in the lab. "There is a storm within you. Release it."

I open my mouth to object, to push away and tell him to leave me alone, but a stifled sob quickly replaces my bitter words in the warmth of his embrace, and I find myself torn. I can't do this. I just _can't_...

And so I break. I let it go, and I collapse against him, choking on all of the wayward emotions—on the anger, the confusion, the betrayal and the resentment. It all comes bubbling up from my gut, filling my lungs and surging up my throat. I cling to his robe for dear life and cry into the material I've gathered in my fists.

_How could he—_

_It's not fair—_

_He just left, he just left us—_

_He's been with her when his home, his family, was right here—_

_Waiting for him—_

_Crying for him—_

_Wishing that our brother could just come back._

And now he is back. But it's not at all what I thought it'd be, and now that I know where he's been, who he's been with—it just hurts.

Why wouldn't he say anything? Even if he was hurt, he could've sent Karai with a message. If he really cared, if he really, truly wanted to come home, he would've found a way. Surely something would have been better than nothing.

I cling to Master Splinter like he's the only thing that makes sense, because he is. And he holds onto me while I'm tossed and thrown around in the whirlwind of my own soul. My emotions swoop down like vultures, tearing bits of flesh from my bones and leaving me feeling picked through and dejected.

I'm angry. I'm hurt. I'm confused.

And above all, I'm tired.

I'm tired of trying to put this broken family back together; tired of bearing the massive weight of Leo's death on my shoulders so my brothers could breathe; tired of having to be strong when all I've wanted to do was break and crumble to the ground.

And now that he's here, it's like the burden I've been carrying has just dropped on me. Like my arms have finally snapped and the full weight has brought me down to the pit I was trying so hard to stay out of. I don't have to be strong anymore. I don't have to put on a brave face and shove all my emotions down. I have no reason to fend off the torrent of pain I've kept at bay.

He's here.

And now I'm drowning.

* * *

 


	9. Home (Part Three)

* * *

{Raph}

Donnie's stomped out in a raging fit, and even though the door has shut behind him, his last words ring throughout the lab as if he had just spoken them.

_Karai._

I turn back to Mikey and we both look down at Leo, who's lying on the floor, bleeding from his mouth and nose and shielding his face with the arm he's draped over his head.

_He was with…Karai._

I can see the faint gleam of silent tears streaming down his face. He's shaking.

"Karai," I whisper numbly. "Leo…is that true?"

I wait for a response, but I don't get one save for the stifled whimper that escapes his bloodied lips.

I know Donnie wasn't lying, but his reaction to it was so intense that I'm having trouble coming up with one of my own. I mean, there's blood all over the floor beneath Leo. It's spattered down his neck and plastron. That's not even something  _I_  would do.

Mikey is the first to shake off the stupor. He scrambles to wet some towels by the sink and rushes back to Leo's aid, quickly stooping to his knees to wipe the blood from our brother's body.

"Don't," Leo grumbles, hoarse. He gently pushes our youngest back and sits up, smearing the blood dripping from his mouth with the back of his hand.

There's only silence. It's nerve-wracking and tense, but I don't know what to say. I don't think any of us do. I doubt Leo wants us here—if the look of absolute shame on his face is anything to go by— but I sure as heck ain't gonna leave him, and neither is Mikey.

"Well, this is a mess," I state bluntly.

Leo glares up at me, and my heart drops at his condition. There's a dark bruise rapidly forming beneath his left eye, and his mouth and nose are still trickling with blood. His gaze is dark and hollow, and the many scars layering his skin seem to contort his features. He looks…

_Defeated._

"Leo…" Mikey tries handing the towel to him, but he doesn't take it. Like he just wants to sit there, bleeding.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he mutters. He shifts his body in an attempt to stand, but the second he puts weight on his bad leg, he cries out and slumps back to the floor.

Mikey gasps and reaches to help him. "Leo—"

"I said I'm  _fine_!" he snaps, clutching his shin and gritting his teeth against the obvious pain. He pulls his knee up to his chest and doubles over, breathing hard and grimacing. "Just—just leave me alone, okay?"

Mikey backs off, but the look on his face is heartbreaking. His hands are still held out uselessly and he averts his gaze to the ground.

_What have we gotten ourselves into…?_

I heave out a breath and cross the few steps over to my weary brother, and before he can protest, I plop down beside him and sling an arm around his shoulder, pulling him against me.

"Raph," he whimpers, broken. "Please, just—"

"Look, Leo," I interrupt gruffly. "I don't care, alright?"

I can feel his gaze burning against my skin, but I won't meet it. I keep my eyes fixed on the wall across the lab, and I keep my arm snug around my brother. I let him go once. I won't do it again.

Mikey doesn't take another second to join us on Leo's opposite side. He curls up against him, sighing in a mixture of heavy emotions I can't place.

A strong silence settles over the lab save for Leo's shallow breathing. He's still trembling a little, but I think it's slowed since I pulled him close. As ashamed as he is, I know he can't deny how much he wants the comfort. I lean my head back against the wall and take a deep breath.

"Leo…I don't know where you've been, or who you've been with," I say slowly. "But…I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah, Leo," Mikey murmurs in agreement. "I don't care if you've been with Karai or Squirrel-a-noids or mutated space ducks this whole time. I'm just happy you're home."

He swallows beside me, and a strangled sound comes from somewhere deep in his throat. Pain. That's all I see when I look at him. Just pain and weariness and desperation. He needs us as much as we need him right now—maybe even more.

_And I can't believe Donnie the Genius couldn't see that._

Or maybe he did, and he just didn't care. After all, I haven't really let it sink in. I'm sure Leo has his reasons, but I know if I sit here and think on it, I'll get angry too. I mean, five miles from here and he couldn't even—

 _Don't_ , I quickly scold.  _Don't think about it. Don't be angry. Just…just be here. With him._

Another deep breath. I close my eyes, drowning myself in this moment. The warmth of my brothers beside me, the soft sounds of their breath in the quiet of our home—despite all of the insanity, despite all of the fear and pain and anger, we've managed to find what lies beneath it all.

"He's gonna hate me now," Leo whispers suddenly. I open my eyes and glance at him from my peripherals. His face is the definition of exhaustion, and he keeps his eyes on the far wall, glazed over and blank.

"Shut up, Fearless," I grumble. I give him a stern but affectionate noogie. "No one's gonna hate you for not being dead."

"Well, except Shredder," Mikey mutters. "And Dogpound. And Fishface. And pretty much everyone else who's not—"

"Can it, Mikey," I growl. "You're not helping."

"Oh," he whispers. "Right. Sorry."

I push out a breath and give a little shrug. "Donnie's high-strung anyway. Just give him time; he'll come 'round."

But he doesn't look so convinced. He sits beside me, still stiff and coiled like a cat waiting to for its chance to bolt. I glance over him, mentally counting the scars and indentations across his body. I think about what he must've looked like when Karai found him, and then I start to wonder what exactly happened between those two over the past year.

"I'm tired," Leo says quietly. I can feel him trying to shift in my grasp. "Can you let me up now?"

The tone in his voice physically pains me. It hurts to know I can't comfort my brother in his time of need, and it hurts even more for him to seek solitude after being gone so long.

"Leo…"

But that's all I get out. I release the rest of my speech in a heavy breath and dip my head low, lifting my arm from his shoulder.

"Thanks," he mutters. He gingerly maneuvers to his feet, wincing slightly at whatever pain his injured leg is bringing. Mikey and I both watch him stand up and hobble for the door, feeling as helpless as ever.

But Leo doesn't get very far when the laboratory door is gently pushed open. Master Splinter stands in the doorway, and I immediately sit up. Donnie's beside him, keeping his eyes downcast and his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes are red and dry looking, and something burns in me to see slight smears of Leo's blood on his knuckles.

"Sit back down, Leonardo," Splinter says sternly. "We have some things we must discuss." His dark eyes sweep the room. "All of us."

Leo swallows and limps back a step. "Sensei, please—I'm tired and I don't—"

" _Sit._ " The jade staff thuds on the ground in emphasis to Sensei's orders, and all four of us stiffen. Leo hesitates a split second before complying and limping over to the nearest chair—the one Donnie knocked him out of.

Splinter nudges Donnie into the room and shuts the door behind him.

"Now listen closely, my sons," he starts lowly. "We are going to talk this through. I do not want to hear any more fighting between any of you. We will sort this out in a  _civil_  manner." He passes a sharp glance towards Donnie. "Now, who wishes to start?"

No one volunteers. Splinter nods towards Leo, who's slumped in the chair and staring at his hands in his lap. He looks like he'd rather be dead than be here with all our eyes on him.

"Leonardo?"

But Leo just sinks further into his chair. "Sensei, I can't… I don't want to talk about this right now."

Splinter's eyes narrow. "I was not asking what you wanted to do," he says sharply. "This is something that must be done, no matter how uncomfortable it may make you or anyone else."

Silence follows his words, and for a moment, I don't think anyone is going to say anything. But it's Mikey who breaks the tension by raising his hand timidly.

"Can I go first, Sensei?"

Splinter's gaze lands on our youngest, and he gives a small nod.

"You may, Michelangelo."

He clears his throat a little and directs his attention, somehow, to every single one of us.

"I really don't understand why everyone's so upset," he starts. He's sitting cross-legged with his hands pressed down on his knees, and his eyes gleam with something that catches me off-guard.

"I mean, yeah, Leo was gone. But he's here now. Isn't that enough for you guys?"

"That's not the point," Donnie interjects, his voice as bitter as the look on his face. "I'm mad because he was gone when he didn't  _have_  to be. I'm mad because of everything we had to put up with—everything  _I_  had to do—in his absence. All of that hard work seems a little pointless after finding out that he was just playing house with Shredder's daughter, and I—"

"Enough, Donatello," Splinter says suddenly, obviously not content with allowing Donnie to get all heated up again. "I wish for Leo to speak now."

Donnie huffs out a breath and crosses his arms dejectedly, averting his narrowed gaze to the floor. Splinter nods towards Leo, who couldn't look more uncomfortable.

"I was unaware that you were with Karai," he continues calmly. "Yours brothers and I know full well what we endured in your absence, and there is no point in voicing what is already known. I would like to hear your side of the story, my son."

Leo takes a shaky breath, wringing his wrists in his lap nervously. Everyone waits patiently for him to muster the courage—and the strength—to recall the events that brought us to this point.

"After…everything that happened on the Technodrome," he begins timidly, "I-I blacked out. I don't really remember much of anything; I drifted in and out of consciousness for a long time, but I knew she was there. I didn't know how or why, but I could hear her talking to me. And when I finally woke up…I saw it really was her."

He pauses for a moment, and his eyes are glossed over in remembrance. I listen to the softness of his voice as he recounts his time with her, and it makes something in my chest ache. I mean, I knew he had a crush on her, but I figured… Well, I guess I didn't expect him to hold onto it. Or for it to get him anywhere.

"She told me she had found me drifting with the wreckage in the ocean that morning when she went to go check out the explosion. And then she just kinda…took me in. She hid me in an abandoned warehouse by the docks and kept me there while I healed. I don't really know how she managed, but she cleaned all of my wounds and bandaged my broken bones. She helped me even though it would've been a million times easier to just slit my throat and be done with it." He hesitates again. "And she did it all without Shredder's knowledge. She…she risked her life for mine."

None of us say anything, even though I have a million questions burning through my mind. I don't understand why Karai would bother to save my brother. Unless…

Unless she cares for him a lot more than she lets on.

"I was comatose for several months," he continues. "And even after I woke up, it was still hard to stay awake. I slept through a lot of the pain until I was well enough to get moving. And she helped me with that, too. I had to learn to walk again, and training was a lot harder with my limp. I was going to try and get back to normal before I came home…but two nights ago, after a scouting trip, Karai came back to me and told me she saw you three in the alleyway."

I blink and sit up. Karai was there? She saw us? But I didn't even—

"That's when I knew I had to come home. So I did." He swallows again and kicks his foot up idly in his seat. "And that's about it."

"You still didn't explain why it took you so long to come home," Donnie growls from the corner of the room. "Did you even try to reach us?"

Leo's brow knits and he looks back down at his hands.

"Like I said, Karai had to be careful not to draw attention to herself, and I was unconscious for most of it. She didn't know where to go or what to do, and even if she did, I'd have to risk Shredder's surveillance to contact you."

But Donnie just scoffs. "That's not an answer to my question, Leo. Did you even  _try_?"

The silence that follows is answer enough. My gaze flickers from Donnie to Leo. I'm glad Leo's home—really, I am. But hearing that he didn't even try, and that the only reason he  _did_  show up was because Karai told him about us fighting… Well, it raises a few ugly questions.

_Did he not want to come home?_

That single thought hits me like a derailed train. We all know Leo: If he wants something, if he truly, truly wants something, he will stop at nothing to achieve it. If he wanted to come home, he would've. It's as simple as that.

And yet somehow, he's made it so much more complicated, and the words come out before I can stop them.

"So you didn't want to come home?" I ask softly. The fact that he won't look at me only makes it worse. "Leo, we could've helped you ourselves. We could've trained you, stitched you up—shell, Donnie could've fixed your leg by now!"

"Exactly my point," Donnie mutters. I shoot a glare his way. I don't want to side with him, especially now that he pounded Leo's face into the floor, but his anger has some ground.

"This past year was completely unnecessary," Donnie continues sourly. "And I don't think it's fair for him to just come home and expect everything to fall back into place."

"Who said I expected that?" Leo snaps defensively. "I never once said I expected you guys to be okay with any of it. In fact, I knew you'd act like this—that's why it took so long for me to get the nerve to come back!"

"But why were you gone so long in the first place?" Donnie jabs. "You wouldn't have had to scrape up any nerve if you had just come back like you were supposed to!"

"How was I supposed to do that, Donnie? I just told you why I couldn't—"

"And that you didn't even  _try_ —"

"Will you both just shut up?!"

Mikey's outburst stops the flames spurting from Leo and Donnie in a heartbeat. Everybody looks to him fuming in his seat. His eyes are narrowed, burning blue like I've never seen.

"This is the dumbest thing I've ever had to listen to, and considering who I live with, that's pretty shocking." He jabs his finger at Donnie with a rare scowl etched into his expression. "Donnie, you've gotta knock it off. I mean, sure, he left and he didn't need to be gone that long. Fine, we get that. It sucked when it didn't need to. But all of us had to put up with his death, so I don't get why you're standing there and acting like you were the only one who suffered. We  _all_  did."

"I didn't say I was the only one," Donnie growls. "And you're only proving my point, Mikey. We went through a bunch of crap while he was out there—"

"In a coma?" Mikey interjects. "With burns and broken bones?" He scoffs and shakes his head. "Are all of you forgetting that he  _died_  so we could escape? Am I the only one who remembers what he offered to do in our place? The dude can hardly  _walk_! How can you look at him and know what he had to go through and  _still_  be mad?"

"Yeah," I join in. "What does getting angry even do for you at this point, Donnie? I mean, it's not gonna change anything—"

I stifle a flinch when he slams his fist against the wall, seething. "Oh, don't you even start that with me!" he snaps. "Look at the stitches on my arm, Raph! Or better yet, look at Mikey's face!  _You_ did that! So don't you sit there and patronize me about controlling  _my_  anger when you can never control yours!"

His words are daggers peeling back my skin, needles beneath the flesh. A vicious sting runs across my eyes, and it only gets worse when Splinter turns his attention to me.

"I was told that it was an accident during patrol," he growls. "Raphael—"

"Sensei, please," Mikey interrupts bravely. "Raph didn't mean it. Honest, Donnie and I are fine. It's not like we've never had stitches before."

To hear my little brother stand up for me while bearing wounds that I delivered with my own two hands is enough to break me right down the middle. A lump forms in my throat, and I'm finding it hard to breathe. I glance at him with wavering eyes to see him sitting up defiantly—protectively, even—and meeting Sensei's sharp gaze with a determined one of his own. Those baby blue eyes shine with strength in our weakest moments, when he does the things we can't.

"And Raph's right, Donnie," Mikey continues firmly. "Getting angry isn't going to change anything. Those stitches will still be there on your arm, and this past year isn't going to disappear. Whatever Leo decided to do doesn't matter now. He's here, and we're together again. Isn't that enough for you?"

"That's not the point, Mikey!"

"Then what  _is_  the point, Genius?" I grumble. Donnie huffs out a breath, obviously frustrated with us turning on him. It's like he just can't wrap his giant head around any of this, and it's driving him nuts.

"I-It's—" He groans as his voice sharpens. "Why are you siding with him anyway?" he snaps. "You get mad over everything! Why aren't you as angry as I am?"

My gaze moves from Donnie's flustered, shaking form to Leo, who's sitting quietly in his seat with his eyes downcast as he endures being the proverbial eye of the storm.

"Because he's my brother," I answer simply.

And it's at that moment when Donnie steps forward with a word on his tongue—the same word he said when we fought in the alleyway.

_Our._

But his voice never carries it, because he catches himself as the memory hits him. I don't need him to say it, though. His silence and stifled breath is evidence enough.

_He's our brother._

His argument is lost then, and his fists clench at his sides. I can see it on his face—he knows he's wrong, but he's too stubborn to let it go, especially now that he's gone so far. It's Donnie's fatal flaw to need to be right, to prove his point at the expense of everyone else's opinion. But he's lost. And not knowing how to deal with it, he turns his face away with a tight jaw, shame and anger mixing like a storm in his dark eyes.

"I'm done, Sensei," he grumbles. Then he shoves the door open and stomps out of the room, leaving the rest of us in silence.

~T~

{Leo}

The lab falls into silence when Donnie leaves. Sensei sighs heavily, rubbing the spots above his eyes wearily.

"I thought that would have gone…differently," he murmurs. I swallow, averting my gaze to my hands. This is just humiliating.

"So what now, Fearless?" Raph grumbles from his place on the floor. I push a breath through my nostrils and slip from the chair.

"I'm going to go talk to him," I say quietly. Splinter immediately reaches for my shoulder, but I brush his hand off.

"Leonardo—"

"I'll be fine, Sensei," I reassure. "I think this was too much for him—for all of us to be in here at once. He felt…cornered. It'll be better if I talk one-on-one with him."

"Yeah," Raph scoffs. "Until he snaps and punches your brains out again."

I try not to wince at that, but my entire face is throbbing with heat and dull pain. The bleeding from my lip finally stopped somewhere in that embarrassing conversation, but everything still hurts. Hopefully, I won't need stitches.

"I'll be fine," I repeat, quieter this time.

_Besides, I probably deserve it anyway._

But I don't say that part.

"You sure you don't want one of us to go with you?" Mikey asks. I look to him, and I can't help to be proud of my little brother. He's gotten so much stronger than I last saw him. He's still a dork, sure. But the look in his eyes is enough to show me that he's growing up in all the right ways.

"I'm sure, Mikey. But thanks."

I limp for the door, feeling all three of their gazes on my shell like lasers. I push it open and pause, glancing back over my shoulder at my family.

"And uh, thanks for standing up for me, guys. It…it means a lot."

Mikey flashes that bright smile. "No problem, bro. Just, you know, scream or something if he punches you again."

I laugh. "Will do, Mikey. Will do."

The door closes behind me, and I let out a breath in an attempt to ease the weight on my chest. I mean, I knew things wouldn't go smoothly, but I didn't think it'd turn out quite like this. That was just a mess in there, and it was awkward as shell to sit through.

And boy, I did  _not_  expect Donnie to be the one to blow up. I thought it'd be Raph for sure. In a way, it's almost worse that it's flipped around. I've dealt with Raph's anger long enough to know what to do for the most part. He just needs time and a good fistfight to blow some steam. But Donnie's wired differently. He simmers, burns beneath that head of his, and his mind moves in a way I can't relate to. His anger is bitter, and despite his usually logical self, I've found that his bad mood swings are anything  _but_  logical. Today proved that. He knew he was outgunned in that room, but he bit down and held onto his negative feelings because anything less would admit defeat. His stubbornness puts the rest of ours to shame. He doesn't want to be wrong. He's just not used to it, and when the time comes around for him to be wrong, he's never quite sure how to handle it—especially when it comes to emotional things. Because there's no clear answer, no obvious solution, and no matter how hard he thinks about it, emotions just simply aren't the same as equations and mental obstacles. They linger and burn and do things against our will. There's no set path, and we're not always in control. It's foreign territory to somebody like him.

Which is going to make this ten times more difficult.

I reach his door before I'm even aware I had been walking towards it. It's shut, as expected. I mule it over, struggling for the words that don't seem to exist. I push out another breath and rap my knuckles softly on the wood.

"Donnie?"

_Maybe I should wait. Give him time…_

"Donnie, you in there?"

I jiggle the handle to find that it's locked.

_Go figure._

"Donnie? Donnie, come on. I just wanna talk this through—"

"Go away, Leo." His voice is as sharp and bitter as ever. My throat works, and I knock again.

"Donnie, please… I'm sorry. Really, I am. Just let me in."  
"No."

I groan. "Donnie, come on. I'm trying to—"

But a hand grabs on my shoulder, and I flinch, jumping back from the door to see Mikey standing beside me.

"Mikey," I gasp. "Don't  _do_  that!"

"Wasn't trying to scare you," he snorts, obviously amused that he was able to sneak up on me. "I just came to check… He isn't gonna open that door for you, though."

My face slumps and I drop my voice into a whisper. "Can you get him to listen to me? I have to fix this—"

"You can't, Leo." He says it with a simplicity that shocks me.

"What?" I ask incredulously. "Why not?"

He shrugs. "You just can't. But I can talk to him for you."

My brow furrows. "Why would he listen to you if he's not going to listen to anybody else?"

But he just smiles and waves me away from the door.

"I got this, bro," he assures, bright and firm. "Trust me."

I huff out a breath, crossing my arms in resistance. "Mikey, I don't think—"

"Dude, just go on. I've got this."

And when he sees the hesitant look on my face, he sighs and puts a hand on my shoulder again.

"Leo, he's different than the Donnie you knew before. He's changed, and it's gonna be awhile before you two connect again. But I've been with him through the whole thing." He grins and puts his hands on his hips in a triumphant way. "I can basically read him like a book now."

"Yeah," I scoff, raising a brow. "Considering you don't read books, I find that hard to believe."

He shakes his head and shoos me away again. "Just go on, okay? Go hang out with Raph and Splinter—D and I will catch up."

"Mikey…"

He jabs his finger towards the living room. "Go, Leo."

Defeated—and still sore about it—my shoulders slump and I grunt lowly.

"Okay, okay, fine. Sheesh, when did you get so bossy?"

He smiles cheekily. "Someone had to pick up the slack while you were out." He nudges me by the shell. "Now quit stalling! Away with you!"

I roll my eyes and one side of my mouth tugs up into a grin as I step back from the door.

"Alright, alright, I'm going!"

~T~

{Donnie}

I tug the pillow over my head, trying to shut out Leo and Mikey's conversation on the other side of my door. Most of it's muffled, but I can tell Mikey's chased Leo off. Good. Maybe they'll leave me alone—

 _Click_.

"D?"

I sit up in my bed with a scowl already carved into my face. "Mikey, I said I—" I pause and tilt my head, frowning. "How'd you unlock my door?"

He holds up a bent and jumbled mess of paperclips that he's smushed together.

My frown deepens. "I  _specifically_  made that lock so no one could get in."

"And I specifically made this key so I  _could_  get in," he says matter-o-fact. My eyes narrow, but his are blank, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

_Paperclips. He broke my lock with paperclips._

I groan at the absurdity today has dumped upon me and plop back down on the bed.

"So…can I come in?" he asks softly. I drape an arm over my head and growl.

"Well, seeing as how you already  _are_ in…"

"Sweet!" He kicks the door shut and makes it to the bed in a single leap with an impact that threatens the structural integrity of the bed frame. He props one leg over his knee and crosses his arms behind his head casually, like I've invited him to hang out. I groan again and roll over on my side, tugging the pillow back above my head and hoping he won't say anything. Honestly, I just want to fall asleep and forget today even happened.

But Mikey insists upon pointing out the obvious.

"You know you're wrong, D," he says quietly. "Right?"

I don't respond—I merely bury my face deeper in my pillow, wishing I could smother myself.

"Go away, Mikey," I grumble. "I just want to be alone right now, okay?"

"No, you don't," he comments simply.

"I locked myself in my room," I mutter sharply. "What part of that screams social activity to you?"

"None of it, but you still don't wanna be alone. You just separate yourself when you don't know what to do, because you think being alone will help sort things out." He glances at me, kicking his foot idly over his knee. "It doesn't, by the way. I think it just makes you angrier."

"Mikey," I start. But I lose my words, because deep down, I know he's right. And it only makes it worse.

_Even Mikey's being more reasonable than me._

I know I'm wrong. I know I'm taking this too far and I'm just too stubborn to drop my guard. I know all of this is ridiculous. But there's pain and anger and confusion swirling around inside of me, and it doesn't seem fair to just let it go.

I mean, I worked hard to get us through that whole stupid year. I trained like I've never trained before, I made sure to be there for my brothers, to be there for Sensei, to be a good student, and good son, a good brother, a good leader. I was there for every dumb fight and I bore every bruise and cut it brought me. I was there for all the shouting, the crying, all those long hours of silence and uncertainty—I was there.

But Leo wasn't. He wasn't there for any of that—for any of  _us_. And for him to think he can just come back here and have everything fall back into place is just completely irrational—

"Remember all those nights when we'd lie here and talk?" Mikey whispers. His soft voice draws me up from the well of bitter rage and dissidence. I swallow hard.

"Yeah."

"I liked those talks," he continues idly. "They always made me feel better… Things made more sense after, you know? I mean, everything sucked, but at least we could talk about it. We could listen to each other and just let out all the things we were too scared to say otherwise."

My brow knits. "Where are you going with this, Mikey?"

He rolls onto his side and props his head up with his hand.

"You always said you'd give anything to have Leo back," he says slowly. Convicting. "When we'd talk about how much it hurt, it helped to remember what it was before, when he was here…and you'd say that if you could do it all over again, you would. You  _wanted_  him to come back, Donnie. And here he is."

My jaw clenches.

"So what's the problem?" he presses.

My teeth grind. "You know the problem, Mikey."

"Yeah, you're mad. I'm sure he is, too." He picks at a stray thread on the blankets beneath us. "You kept saying how much we went through while he was gone. But did you ever think of what he went through?"

I grumble under my breath. "It's not the same thing."

"Of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?" He rolls back onto his shell. "I'm just saying that neither side knows exactly what the other went through. So maybe no one has the right to accuse the other of anything. Maybe we should all just be quiet and drop the whole enchilada."

"But that's not fair," I growl. "He can't just leave and goof off while we're here thinking he's dead and snatching at one another's throats. None of that is fair."

"Is that a bad thing?" he asks. I stare at him, my mind blank. "Think about it, Donnie. What is fair, anyway? We're mutant turtles living in a sewer—do you really expect any of your life to be fair? We said it wasn't fair that he died, and now you're saying it's not fair that he's back."

I don't respond. I can't.

"You know what? I'm glad life isn't fair. If it were, Leo wouldn't be here. I don't think any of us would."

But his words only grate on my thoughts, adding to the storm. I know he's right—of course he is—but it hurts too much.

_Why is he so much stronger—_

_Why can he make sense of everything I can't—_

_Why does it hurt so much to know that he's right?_

I bite my lip and sink ever deeper into the mattress, wishing it would just swallow me whole.

"You said you'd give anything to have Leo back," he says again. "Maybe this past year, and everything that happened…maybe that's what you gave, Donnie. And maybe that's what you have to let go."

~T~

{Leo}

"He's still in his room?" Raph grumbles. He tucks a pillow behind his neck and shoves a fistful of popcorn in his mouth. "Man, talk about a drama queen."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I glower. "It's gross."

And just because he's Raph, he sticks his mushy, popcorn-smothered tongue out at me. My lip curls in disgust and he just laughs. I roll my eyes and turn my attention to my little brother as he sets up his sleeping bag next to me.

"Mikey, I thought you said you were gonna talk to him?"

"I did." He shrugs. "I guess he needs some time. But he'll come around…eventually."

I heave out a sigh and Raph shoves a bowl of popcorn into my lap and snatches the remote from my hand.

"Calm down, Fearless. Dork Boy will come down from his little pedestal soon." He makes a devious face and punches his fist into his other palm. "And if he doesn't, I can always knock him off of it."

My expression slumps. "I don't think that'll help."

Raph just shrugs. "I didn't say it'd help. But it'd be pretty fun."

I sigh again and lean back against my pillows. I just have to focus on what's happening right now. After all, I can't remember the last time we all slept out in the living room like this, with popcorn and movies and enough soda to effectively rot our insides by morning. It'll be fun.

_But it'd be better if he was here, too._

I glance back at the hallway, at the door that's still shut. Raph swats my arm.

"Hey!" I growl.

"Knock it off, will ya?" he scolds. "So what if he's sulking? That shouldn't ruin our night."

"We'll be fine, Leo," Mikey reassures. He clings to my arm excitedly. "Besides, this movie's gonna be so awesome! You haven't even seen this one yet! The superheroes have to join together to fight this alien overlord from another dimension who wants to enslave the human race and sell people to other alien species for profit! But then we find out that the main hero guy is actually working for—"

Raph chucks a pillow at Mikey's face, effectively cutting him off. "Shut it, you moron! You're gonna give the ending away!"

Mikey frowns and rubs his sore nose. "Oh, right… Heh, sorry."

"Geez," Raph snarls. He glares at Mikey a moment more before thrusting his hand out.

"Now gimme my pillow back."

"You're the one who threw it—"

"Just—would you hand it over before I throw something heavier at you?"

"Fine, fine. Sheesh."

Raph snatches the pillow back, grumbling under his breath, and I can't help the smile that finds its way to my lips. I missed this. The stupid arguing, the brotherly spats, and all of the nonsense in-between.

I glance back at the hallway again and flinch when I see Raph raise a hand in my peripheral.

"Don't make me smack you again, Fearless," he growls. "Stop checking to see if his door's open, will you? If he wants to join us, he can join us." He pops another handful of buttery deliciousness into his mouth. "Not gonna share any of my popcorn with him, though."

"I'm just checking to make sure—"

"Shut up, shut up, shh!" Mikey exclaims, waving his arms erratically. "The movie's starting! And Leo, you gotta pay attention to the dude in the beginning, 'cause it's super important for the later stuff and—"

Raph gets him with another pillow and he yelps.

"Can you  _get_  any louder?" he hisses. Mikey sticks his tongue out at him and plops down against me, hugging my arm like he used to when he were kids. I smile down at him, and then grin over at Raph, who's sitting a few feet away from us. I reach over and sling an arm around his neck, dragging him into our little group. He grumbles something unkind under his breath, but he doesn't object past warning me not to touch his popcorn.

The three of us sit there together for the rest of the movie, laughing and throwing popcorn at Mikey when he starts talking too much. For those few hours, it's just like it was before, and even with Donnie holed up in his room, the world seems somewhat normal again.

And as I drift off to sleep in the darkened living room, surrounded by my snoring brothers, blankets, pillows, and an absurd amount of empty soda cans, I wish it could stay like this forever.

...

When I wake up, my eyes open to the dark red brown of Donnie's. He's lying right next to me, exhaustion etched deep into his expression, and if I weren't so out of it, I'd be bracing myself for some kind of trouble. But he looks tired. Worn out. Those eyes are deep and dark and sad, and it hurts to look right at them.

I swallow past the lump forming in my throat as I search for the words, but he beats me to it.

"I'm still mad at you," he whispers hoarsely. "And I will be for a while. But I'm…" He hesitates, sighing as his throat works. "I'm sorry."

I don't say anything. I can't. Am I bitter of what happened yesterday? Of course. But it's still not enough to drown out my desperate need to have my brothers back—all of them.

"You're just going to have to give me time," he continues quietly. He's sounding more of himself now—not whatever he was earlier today. "I shouldn't have hit you or said any of that. It was…wrong. I was wrong. But you need to understand that after everything we had to go through…everything I had to do in order to pull us forward…it just hurts. And it's going to hurt for a while. So whenever I snap at you or get angry, just…try to remember that I really am glad you're here."

I blink at the burning in my eyes and nod.

"Because I did miss you. And we need you here…even if we act like jerks three-fourths of the time."

I laugh feebly. "I'll try to remember that. But…thanks, Donnie. And thank you for watching over them while I was gone. It's not an easy thing to do, and the fact that you stepped up and bore the weight for them… Well, it means a lot."

My words seem to pull something in him. His eyes shine and he loses his composure for the slightest instant.

But he blinks it away, regaining himself, and he grunts in response and rolls over on his shell.

"Don't thank me yet. I'll just take out my pent-up aggression on you when I break your leg."

I swallow hard. "…Right. And how am I supposed to go to sleep now?"

He chuckles, but in the back of my mind, fear mixes with the lingering relief.

_Note to self: Don't mess with Donnie._

"If you're nice to me, I'll use the proper amount of sedative. If not…" He trails off and smirks at me—a gesture that sends ice down my spine. "Well, that'd be fun for no one but me."

"You know," I whisper slowly. "I'm starting to think you're more twisted than Raph."

He shrugs. "I have my moments."

Mikey stirs beside me as he snorts and mumbles something in his sleep. Donnie smiles and shakes his head before tugging his blanket over himself.

"We should probably go back to bed now," he suggests.

"Yeah," I mutter lowly. "With visions of you snapping my leg dancing around in my head."

He rolls his eyes. "It wouldn't be snapping, Leo. It'd be carefully placed hits with a surgical hammer to loosen up the shards—" He pauses and puts his finger to his lips in a thoughtful manner. "But I'll probably have to peel back the flesh beforehand to scrape away any excess calcium deposits on the bone itself—"

"Okay, okay,  _stop_ ," I groan, covering my face with both of my hands. "You are  _not_  helping."

"I wasn't trying to help. I was merely correcting you on what the procedure was going to be like."

"Just shut up and go to bed, will you?" I shove out a breath and rub my eyes, as if that could possibly erase the mental images he's just engraved into my brain. "Geez. Gonna give me nightmares for the rest of my life…"

He scoffs. "Well maybe you should've come home  _before_  your tibia healed over like a lumpy pickle."

"Okay, that is  _not_  what it looks like," I growl. But then I stop.

Wait…is it?

I mean, I  _am_  green, and the bone  _is_  pretty bumpy looking…

I groan again and yank my sheets up over my face.

"I'm done talking to you," I grumble.

He just laughs. "Well, goodnight to you too."

I listen to him roll over and shift in the mess of blankets and bodies and pillows until he finally finds a comfortable spot. The silence moves back in like a fog drifting over us, and in the warmth of the little nest we've made all over the living room floor, I begin to doze off.

That is, until Mikey crawls over me and plops down in between Donnie and I with a muffled grunt. I glare at him and shove his leg off of my plastron, but I'm pretty sure he's still sleeping. I roll my eyes, smiling slightly to myself—even though his elbow is jabbing into the soft sides of my carapace. I attempt to move to the right so I have a little room to myself, but just then, Raph shoves me right back up against Mikey and sprawls out beside me. I frown.

"Can you move over?" I growl.

"Nope."

And that's all I get from him. He adjusts his pillows and is out like a light not five seconds later, snoring into my ear.

I groan inwardly, twisting back and forth as I try to find a comfortable position smushed between my brothers. But eventually, I give up. I'm too tired to care about comfort anyway.

I manage to wriggle onto my side and I nuzzle my face into my pillow, seeking the warmth and darkness of sleep. Mikey mutters something indistinct in his sleep and rolls over, slinging his arm around me and burying his face in the back of my neck. I almost swat him away, but I don't have the heart. I can't remember the last time we've spent the night like this: together. The quiet of the lair, the soft sounds of their breath, and this nostalgic feeling of regaining something I thought I lost forever is enough to send a wave of relief and security through my entire body.

Whatever's ahead of us, we can handle, and we'll handle it together.

And lying there in the midst of my family, I realize that after all of the hell this past year brought, I'm finally back where I belong.

I'm home.

* * *

 

 


	10. Epilogue

* * *

{Karai}

It's been almost eight months now since I last saw Leo. Life has spurred on, waxing and waning like the moon, and I've been busy doing my father's dirty work while also keeping a lookout for any sign of the turtles.

The city's been pretty quiet. I didn't believe at first that Leo and his brothers actually managed to defeat the Kraang, but now I see that they must have. The streets that were once bustling with mutant freaks and alien crime are now littered with normal scumbags and simple robberies. A few gang issues, two murders, domestic abuse cases and drug dealers are the only sorts of crime making any headline.

And it's…weird. I mean, I'm not complaining, but I'd gotten so used to the insanity of New York that now I'm just bored. And it certainly doesn't help that my mutant friends are nowhere to be found.

I sheathe my sword on top of the high rise, gazing out longingly at the lights of the city below. It's too normal. I can't stand it.

_I miss him._

I shake my head to scatter the wayward thought, clenching my jaw in response to such ridiculous notions. It doesn't matter. They're gone now, and after everything I said to him before we parted, I can't exactly expect him to be popping into my life anytime soon.

_But he said…he said he'd find a way._

Did I believe him? No. But I wanted to see him try. It's what makes Leo so interesting; seeing what he will do in order to accomplish something. I wanted to see what he could come up with, the lengths that he would go to free me from the prison of my blood.

Father's driving me nuts, and it's only getting worse as I grow older. He won't give up on his whole revenge obsession—not after the scouts and I told him of spotting the turtles months ago. He knows they're out there, and he's not going to stop until they're all dead. It's sad, really, to see what this has done to him. He's practically insane by any ordinary account. It's like his mind has been bent on the notion that he can't let go or move on until Hamato Yoshi and his disciples lay dead at his feet. His thirst for revenge is the only thing keeping him alive, like he's been stuck with an IV that's dripping rage and hatred into his veins. It's all he is now.

He's wasting away, and worse—he's dragging me down with him.

 _Come on, Leo_ , I repeat in my head for the hundred thousandth time. The city looks so vast, so cluttered—so full of life beyond my own. I'm just a small piece on the board, and as I dwindle away, life moves on without me. I'm being suffocated by this world of lies and greed, by the hands of my father, by the blood in my veins, the family I can never escape. But no one can see me.

No one…except him.

And the words come on a whisper, a hope set adrift on the wind. I dream that I want with all that I am.

"Set me free."

…

It's getting late. Or early—I forget. I ditched the scouts forever ago to wander off by myself so I can think and breathe without the hands of my father pulling the strings. I'm so tired of being alone. So tired of this life here in the darkness. I thought I knew what I wanted, but as the time passes and the fog of my childish mind lifts, I'm finding more and more that I have no idea what I want. Where am I going? What will my life become if I continue down this aimless road of underground crime and black markets? Filth. All of it. That's what we are down inside.

I release a breath and swipe my katana across the nearest satellite system sprouting from the rooftop, no doubt cutting off whatever mindless crap someone in the apartment below was filling their head with. After all, I'm having a bad day—it only seems fair someone else should, too.

I swing my sword at the air a few times to blow some steam before plopping down against the ventilation unit.

_Stupid. My whole life is one big, stupid mess._

Training was a train wreck. Father found everything wrong with everything I did, and then made one of his idiot pawns spot me and correct my exercises the entire time. It was humiliating, like I wasn't even good enough for him to stand in the same room as me. And I know it's just because he's angry at my indifference. He wants me to be as obsessed and twisted as he is, but I can't. I can't even fake it. He knows I ditch scouting missions, he knows I skip out of training sessions, and he knows I wander off away from his vigil on a consistent basis. He can sense my rebellious spirit, and he's doing everything in his power to crush it. But I don't care anymore. Honestly, I don't. I don't know how long it'll take for him to kill me or dump me somewhere far away from here, but it doesn't matter. I'm ready for my life to change, for better or for worse. Anything to get me out of here.

I kick at the busted dish in frustration, nostrils flaring, mind seething.

I just hope those idiot scouts don't track me down anytime soon, because I'm one misplaced word away from decapitating somebody. It'd sure make my night a lot more interesting—

_Thud._

I whirl around, but I'm not fast enough to evade the figure hurdling itself at me with arms wide. I can't even grip my sword properly before I'm hoisted off the ground and squeezed  _way_  too tight.

"Karai!"

The voice sounds familiar—bright, bubbly—and very, very excited to see me, which is odd, seeing as how most people aren't.

I gasp, unable to breathe as my brain frantically puts this all together. I see the scales, the green, the shell—and in the dark, I make out the orange tail of a mask.

_Michelangelo._

He twirls me around a few nauseating times before dropping me back on my feet. I stumble, sucking in a breath and steadying myself on the vent system, looking up at him in dazed wonder.

"W-What?"

It's all I can get out. He's beaming a smile at me like I'm his best friend as he shifts his weight excitedly from one foot to the other.

"Sorry," he apologizes hastily. "Didn't mean to freak you out, but we were on patrol and I totally thought I saw you running around up her by yourself, so I came to check—"

"What're you doing here?" I growl, throwing up my defensive walls and smoothing my icy composure back over myself. I'm happy to see him, really, but it all makes me nervous. Besides, the only turtle I've ever really connected with was Leo, so his brothers are foreign territory to me.

His chirpy confidence wavers at the sharp tone of my voice. He steps back a little, unsure.

"I just wanted to find you," he says, his voice wilting like a child in question. "To say thanks…for saving Leo."

I straighten and blink, and after a moment of allowing the shock to complete a single, cool wave throughout my body, I sheathe my blade behind me and let my shoulders slump a little.

"Oh."

_Don't be awkward._

"Uh…you're welcome, I guess."

He clasps his hands behind his back and traces his foot idly along the ground, averting his gaze.

"The hug was too much, wasn't it?"

I can't help the chuckle that escapes me. "No—I mean, sort of… I'm just not used to…physical contact." I shrug. "You know, beyond fighting."

His gaze flicks back up to mine, baby blue striking hot amber. "Oh." He glances around, like he's physically looking for something to talk about.

"So what're you doing out here by yourself?" he asks. I set my jaw.

"Just…thinking. My scouts are getting on my nerves and I…" I trail off and look away. Why am I talking to him like this? I'm not supposed to be seen with him—with  _any_  of them. There could be people watching right now—

"Mikey? Mikey,  _what_  are you doing up here? I thought I told you to—"

That familiar voice is lost in a hitch of breath as I turn to see him, standing on the roof's edge, those blue eyes wide and bright against the dark backdrop of the city.

"Karai?" He says my name like a hope, a whisper suspended in disbelief, as if he never expected to see me again. Our eyes lock, and everything else seems to cease existing around me in those three long strides he takes to meet me. My breath is caught in my throat like a lump, with all the things I want to say, with all the emotions I want to express, to understand, but can't. After eight months in my darkness, withering beneath the shadow of my father and my duties, seeing Leo lifts some unseen force from within my chest. But the illusion is broken when the younger brother pipes up.

"See Leo? I  _told_  you I saw her up here!"

But Leo rolls right over his words, his eyes on me. "Karai, what're you doing here?"

I regain myself as quickly as I can, scraping up any resolve I have left to patch up my walls again.

"I should be asking you the same thing," I retort, folding my arms over my chest. My eyes flit over his body, taking in the details. His scars have faded tremendously, but there's still a few across the side of his neck and along his plastron that stand out, darker than the rest of him. The indentations remain in the hard shell of his chest and back, like little chips in his armor. But his shin is no longer a gnarled mess of bone fragments—it's smooth and straight, save for the jagged scar running down the length of it. I think he's grown a bit, too.

He keeps glancing around like he expects someone to jump out at any second, and it's a bit disappointing. He's the only friend I have, and I never thought I'd see him again, but now he's here and he can't even keep his focus on me long enough for my mind to be able to ground itself in this moment.

"We're out on patrol," he explains quickly. "Heard some Purple Dragon members were causing trouble on Fifth." Another scan of the area. "What're you out here for?"

I shrug, trying to play casual and shove down the bubbling mess of heat boiling away in my gut. I breathe deep and stifle the emotions.

"I  _was_  on a scouting trip." I shoot a glare at Michelangelo, who returns my hot stare with a sheepish grin and a timid chuckle. "And then he showed up."

Leo groans and turns to his brother. "Mikey, you know you're not supposed to wander off alone. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. There could've been Foot soldiers out here with her, or any number of—"

"Dude, chill," Michelangelo grumbles in an attempt to placate his older brother. "First off, I'm not dumb enough to jump into a situation before scoping things out a bit."

Leo gives him a hard stare, and he corrects himself.

"Okay, I'm  _usually_  not that dumb. But I checked, I swear! I just wanted to thank her for helping you out, that's all."

"Well you could've said something before running off," Leo growls. "Scare me half to death on our first night out—"

I clear my throat and nod towards the buildings to the right. "This isn't the greatest time to have a spat, you two. My idiot scouts are probably right across the street, and it'd be hell for all three of us if they were to notice me up here with you."

Leo's gaze hardens. "You're right. It's not safe." He looks to Michelangelo and jabs his finger down towards the alley to our left.

"Get back down there; find Raph and Donnie. They should be waiting around the corner, if they're any better at following orders than you are."

"But what about Karai?" he asks pleadingly. "They'll wanna see her too, Leo."

" _Go_ , Mikey. I'll be right there."

He huffs out a breath, but complies nonetheless. In less than a second, he's across the roof and out of sight.

"Sorry," Leo murmurs, his gaze lingering on the space his brother had vanished from. "I hope he didn't freak you out or anything."

I laugh. "Nothing freaks me out anymore, Leo. And it's fine… He was nice." I pause, lowering my voice. "I didn't think you'd tell them about me."

He shrugs. "Kinda had to. Things got a little…out of hand, to say the least. It's been rough these past few months since I got home."

I nod, trying to visualize what might have happened the instant his family saw him stagger back to them.

"Your limp's gone," I say idly, my brain scrambling for conversation pieces.

"Yeah," he chuckles. "Donnie had to do some sort of invasive surgery on it. He put this metal rod in the bone to keep it all together. Recovery sucked…but I'm walking, so I guess it paid off."

I chew on my lip, feeling closed in by all the thoughts spurring around in my head. I just want to sit here and talk with him, like we did before. I need someone to vent to, to spill my secrets and trust that they won't be spoken. The tension that drifts between us is driving me mad. It wasn't like this before—

_You pushed him away, remember?_

I swallow hard as the memory resurfaces. Him trying to lift my spirits in that dark alley, me blocking him out with my walls, with my fears and uncertainty. I told him that we wouldn't see each other—that everything would be different. I made him feel like I didn't want to be near him anymore, when the exact opposite is true. I need him here. I need someone, anyone, to be here when my world grows too heavy for me to bear. I can't do this by myself.

But he breaks the silence with a sigh and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry...I should go now." He takes a step back, and my heart lurches. "I don't want to get you in any trouble—"

"No!" I say suddenly, reaching for him as he turns to leave. He stops, his eyes on my outstretched hand in anticipation. Heat flushes through me. I curl my fingers back into my palm and lower my arm to my side, looking away. I can feel him watching me, waiting.

"I, um…"

_Come on, come on—say something, you idiot—_

"I'd like to see your brothers, if that's alright with you."

His eyes search mine, and my throat works. I don't know what's up with my lack of composure, but I'm making myself out for a fool.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid—_

"Okay," he says slowly, tilting his head. "Where do you want to meet?"

I glance around and feel my skin prickle. This is such a bad idea, I'm going to get myself killed—

"Where we were last," I say quietly.

And then I turn on my heels, bolt from the roof, and jump down into the darkness below.

~T~

{Leo}

She drops out of sight into the streets, leaving me there with her last words hanging on the breeze.

_Where we were last._

I stare after the empty space she once filled, feeling my chest ache. I didn't think I'd find her again, but there she was, alone up here…

_Doing what?_

I try to think of how her life's been since I left. Eight months is a long time. She looked older. Tired. Darker, too. Her eyes were different, and I could sense something in her voice, in her spirit. Not defeat…

But tension.

The dead calm before the storm, the stillness of the sea before the raging winds rip the waves to shreds. She looked taut and ready to snap. A mine waiting to be set off. All that energy, that frustration and pain, just building inside of her.

_And where have I been?_

My brow knits as an overwhelming sense of concern ripples through me. She's had no one this entire time. No one to talk to, to joke with, to spar with. Just her and her father and all the hell in-between.

And the way she reached for me tore at my heart. There was desperation in her voice, in her touch. She needs something to ground her, or she's going to break.

I set my jaw, steeling myself over as I remember the promise I made her. I whirl around, speeding across the rooftop and hurling myself into the air. With outstretched arms and coiled legs, I catch the side of the fire escape and spring off of the metal railing, launching myself down onto the asphalt with hardly a sound. In seconds, I'm on my feet and around the corner of the alleyway, where my brothers are waiting.

"Leo," Mikey whispers quickly. "Leo, did she leave? What'd you talk about? Is she—"

"Come on," I mutter gruffly, like I don't care. "We're taking a short detour."

"A detour?" Donnie repeats. "What for?"

"Yeah," Raph growls. "What about the Dimwits? I thought we were gonna bash some heads, Leo—"

"We  _will_ ," I assure. "But there's something else we have to do first."

Raph just scoffs. He's not as keen as he usually is to start a fight with me—not on our first night out, anyway.

"Okay, fine. What?"

"Just follow me."

And they do. Without a word, they fall in behind me, quiet as the dead. We sneak through the streets, moving like ghosts across the city. I keep waiting for one of them to argue, to break the stoic silence that's settled on us, but they don't.

Ever since I got back, it's been…different. I mean, for the most part, things have shifted back into some form of normality, but the scars are still there. We fight about it sometimes, when we get frustrated. Raph will bring it up when he thinks I'm being unfair. For the first few months, he was unusually clingy, like he was afraid I was just going to disappear. He'd pass it off through his tough-guy attitude, but I could see that fear in his eyes, and I knew he was only picking on me more because it was his way of convincing himself that I was actually there. And partially because I deserved it. But he doesn't deliberately dig up the past to hurt me. He uses my absence against me only when he feels he needs to, which is alright—as long as it doesn't become a regular card he plays to guilt-trip me when he wants his way.

Mikey, as expected, doesn't bring it up at all except for a few jokes here and there. He doesn't use it against me in any way, and he's returned to being his old prankster self. We spent the first month together catching up on games, movies, and comics—all the "important stuff" that I missed out on while I was gone. It's been nice bonding with him. It's different, mostly because I've seen glimpses of just how much he had to grow up with me gone, but it's a good kind of different.

And then there's Donnie. Donnie's been…well, I can't really explain what he's been. He's still doing his genius thing, hiding in his lab for a majority of the day and spouting off random science that no one really asked for or will ever need to know. But like Mikey, Donnie's grown so much through this whole thing. It's in his eyes, in the way he holds himself—even the way he argues. He hasn't brought up our fight, or anything else, since the day he punched the crap out of my face. But I can see it in his gaze when we disagree—a silent, heavy stare that reminds me that the pain and the anger is still there behind those dark eyes, lingering. He's certainly grown as a fighter, too. He's calm, collected, and focused, but there's a storm behind that serenity. A tempest just waiting for the right moment. Sometimes during training, it'll come out in a blow that's a little harder than it should've been, or when he sneaks a few extra hits in for good measure. It's not like Raph's short fuse; it's quieter, patient. Donnie bides his time, searching for the perfect opportunity to unleash that madness. He's becoming a force to be reckoned with, but at the same time, he's never been a better follower. Every order I give, he follows to a T. All the sarcastic comments have come to a screeching halt—well, for the most part. He still gets in his jab when he feels he really needs to.

I glance back at the three of them as we round another corner. I'm surprised we've gotten this far without one of them stopping us and complaining. But there's nothing—just the sounds of the city and the soft slips of footsteps as we move.

And almost an hour later, we arrive at the docks. I duck and roll behind an old fishing building to scope things out before I wave them over. They fall in line behind me—again, without a word. It's actually kind of unnerving not to hear some sort of opposition from them. My eyes scour their faces one by one, searching for an emotion I can place, but all I can see in their gazes is curiosity and unwavering trust. My heart skips a beat as I realize how much they depend on me…and how much I depend on them.

I swallow it down and turn back to the docks, noting the spray of the sea against the wooden beams and remembering how I would listen to the sound of the waves all day long while I rested. My chest aches from the memory, and I shake it off.

_Focus._

"Come on," I whisper, motioning forth. We sneak past another few buildings, stopping twice to duck down and evade a passerby. But in another five minutes, we're alongside the warehouse I spent so much time in. I wrench an old window open and we crawl into the darkness.

Raph's voice breaks the thick silence of distant waves and dripping pipes.

"So you wanna tell us what we're here for, Fearless?"

I hold up a finger to keep him quiet just as I remember that he can't see it.

"Did anybody bring a giant flashlight?" Mikey whispers.

"Mikey," Raph mutters. "Just because  _you_  carry random things with you doesn't mean everyone else does."

"Why would anybody have a giant flashlight on them during patrol?" Donnie adds. "Where would we even keep it?"

"Well I thought someone would be more prepared, you know? I mean, we're ninjas… We work in the shadows and all the fun stuff. Just thought it'd make sense for one of us to have a flashlight."

" _Tch_ ," Raph scoffs. "Then maybe you should stuff your shell full of flashlights instead of water balloons—"

"Guys, quiet down, will you?" I hiss. I feel around for something familiar just as the swinging lamp overhead flickers to life. I jump back, shielding my eyes from the sudden burst of light and accidentally knocking Mikey into Raph.

"Watch it!" Raph growls.

"Sorry!"

"How slow are you guys?" Karai's voice fills my senses, and I blink until my vision clears and she comes into view. "I've been waiting here for forever."

Mikey squeals and bounces in front of me. "Karai!"

I snatch him by the shell and yank him back into place.

"Well we couldn't exactly take the main street," I reply, smirking. Her lips tug into a grin, her hand on her hip, and her eyes flicker towards my brothers.

Raph shoves his way between Mikey and I, his gaze rolling right over her like he's sizing her up. "You brought us out here to see  _her_?" he grumbles. "I thought this was something important!"

" _Raph_ ," I growl, jabbing him with my elbow. I smile sheepishly. "He means 'thank you.'"

She glares hard at my idiot brother, and for a moment, I think she's going to say something smart, but her lips thin out and she crosses her arms. I realize her tough-girl exterior has appeared over whatever broken demeanor she wore earlier. She's never really been around all four of us at once—not on good terms, anyway. She probably doesn't know what to do.

Mikey hops past me, waving his arms excitedly. "So is this where you stayed, Leo? This place is huge! I bet it even echoes— _HELLO!_ " His voice rings throughout the spacious warehouse, bouncing off the walls and returning in pieces.

"Mikey!" I hiss. "Keep it  _down_!"

"Heh." He clasps his hands behind his back. "Sorry." But not a moment later, he's spinning around and pointing at things. "So where'd you sleep? On that couch?" He throws himself forth and starts jumping on the old sofa, drawing groans and creaks from the worn down frame.

"Dude, this thing's  _way_  bouncier than the one at home!" He flops down on the cushions and slides off. "Can we keep it? Please!"

I rub my temples with my fingers in an annoyed fashion, but to my surprise, Karai's watching my little brother being an idiot with a smile on her face.

"It's odd that a building this big was left abandoned," Donnie pipes up from the behind. I glance over my shoulder to see him wandering along the back walls, nudging old boxes with his bo staff and tapping his chin thoughtfully. "What was this space used for? Manufacturing?"

Karai shrugs. "You could say that. My father used it a few times before he built his own place in a more…discreet area of town."

I can sense the tension immediately suck the oxygen from the air at the mention of Shredder. Sometimes I forget how close Karai is with him. My brothers definitely don't like to hear her speak of our mortal enemy in such a casual fashion.

"Whoa," Mikey—thankfully—interrupts. "What're all these splotches?" He points at the dark stains in the concrete and looks at me. "Dude, is that your blood?"

I step over to where my little brother stands and stare down at the spatters, frowning. "I don't remember…" I turn to Karai. "Did I really bleed that much?"

She looks at me like I've just asked the dumbest question she's ever heard. "You practically exploded," she mutters. "What did you expect? Paper cuts?"

Her remark goes over my head and my mind drifts. I wonder what that was like. Obviously, I was unconscious, but she was here…helping me. I glance at her from my peripherals, and I can see the look in her eyes. She remembers. I was on my death bed, bleeding out, broken and completely gone in mind, body, and spirit—but here she was to pull me back.

Another ache emanates from my chest, like someone's pulling a string through my flesh. Why does it hurt so much to look at her and remember? I'm home now, where I'm supposed to be. I have my family back.

_So why do I feel remorse?_

I shake it off again and try to focus. I can't think about then, because it's gone now. What's in front of me, my family, is what matters.

It's then I realize how quiet things have gotten. I lift my head to see my brothers glancing back and forth from Karai to me. Heat rushes to my face from the weight of their stares.

"So you really did help him," Raph mumbles, his eyes averting to the blood stains at his feet.

"Is that a statement or are you just attempting to thank me again?" she asks sarcastically. Raph glares back at her, his expression gruff.

"Don't push it," he says past gritted teeth. "I still don't like you."

She merely smiles, shrugging off his hostility.

"Oh, tell us the story!" Mikey chirps, hopping over to where Karai and I are standing. He folds his hands together and drops to his knees in his famous begging position. "Please?"

Her brow arches and she takes a step back from my obnoxious brother.

"I'm sure Leonardo already told you what happened," she dismisses. "There's not much to tell, anyway. I found him and brought him here until he was well enough to return home." Her shoulders lift and drop again absently. "That's it."

"Aw, come on!" Mikey pleads. "You're telling me you spent over a year with him, and he didn't  _once_  do anything embarrassing? You've gotta give me somethin' to work with here!"

A smirk tugs her lips and she glances at me, no doubt remembering a number of things I wasn't conscious of doing. Heat seeps through my cheeks as I recall how many times I talked in my sleep. What did I say? Oh man, I bet it was humiliating—

Like that time I told her she was pretty—

I bet that's not even  _close_  to what else I must've done to look like an idiot-

_No, no, shut up, shut up!_

I clear my throat in a desperate attempt to break the awkward tension that's settled over me.

"Mikey, I already told you everything that happened. Besides, Karai doesn't have time to sit here and entertain you; we came here to thank her, that's all. And we've got Purple Dimwits to take care of, remember?"

"Yeah!" Raph shouts enthusiastically. "What're we standing around for?" He slips his sai from his belt and twirls them around in the air. "Blah, blah, gratitude, blah—thanks for saving Leo's shell, Karai! Now let's get going, before we lose them—"

"Slow down, Raph," I chide. "I didn't say we were leaving  _right_  now."

Raph groans, baring teeth. "Fine, whatever—have your little kissy fest. I'll be outside when you guys are ready to go do something fun."

He walks off towards the window and hoists himself out, making an obvious climb to the roof. I watch him vanish and frown when Donnie speaks up.

"Not to ruin whatever moment you were trying to make, Leo, but Raph's right. We've got to get going if we want to make it to Fifth before they get away again."

He steps over to us and extends his hand towards Karai. "Thank you," he says with a small smile. "You deserve a lot more than gratitude for what you did."

She takes his hand, her eyes softening, and they shake on it.

"You're welcome," she replies quietly.

He nods at her. "You just let us know if you ever need help with anything." He slides his bo staff back into his belt. "You know, as long as it's legal."

She chuckles at that and he steps away.

"I'll be out with Raph when you're done, Leo."

He waves us off and makes for the window, slipping out in a split second and disappearing into the outer darkness.

"My turn!" I turn on my heels to see Mikey scoop Karai up from the floor and squeeze her into a suffocating embrace. Her eyes snap wide and she makes a little sound in the back of her throat—

_Probably because she can't breathe—_

"Mikey!" I hiss. "Mikey, knock it off—put her down!"

He hums happily and hugs her tighter before setting her back on her feet.

"Thanks, Karai," he chirps, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder as she teeters. "You should totally hang out with us sometime. We could eat pizza and watch anime—" He gasps loudly. "Oh, oh! We could totally have a sleepover! And you could train with us and go out on patrol—"

" _Mikey_ ," I growl, jaw clenched.

_Come on, take a hint, little brother._

He looks at me with those big, innocent eyes and chuckles nervously.

"Oh, sorry… I'll just, um, go wait outside with Raph and Donnie." He smiles and waves. "See ya later, Karai!"

And with that, he takes off for the window, stopping just before climbing out. "But seriously, we should hang out."

"Go, Mikey," I grumble.

"How's next week? We doing anything next week, Leo?"

" _Mikey._ "

"Okay, okay, sheesh!" He hops into the window space and waves again. "Bye!"

The faint sound of him scrambling up the side of the building draws a relieved sigh from me. My shoulders slump.

"Sorry," I mutter. "I thought that'd go… Well, actually, I had no idea how that was going to go."

She laughs, hugging her arms around her waist. "It's fine. I just wanted to see how everyone was…make sure you guys were okay and stuff. But they all seem fine. You guys must've worked through most of it by now."

I shrug. "Well, yeah. Sort of. It still comes out every once in a while, but for the most part, we're good." I frown. "Sorry about Mikey, by the way. He's a hugger."

She smiles. "I didn't mind…he's sweet. For a mutant turtle, anyway." She arches her brow at me, smile widening while my mind short-circuits from the fact that she just called Mikey cute. "Pizza and anime? Is that what you guys do when you're not saving the world or blowing up?"

I chuckle nervously. "Well, uh, not all the time. I mean, I prefer sci-fi, but that's—"

_Shut up, Leo—you're being a dork again._

I clear my throat, scrambling. "We mostly train and stuff. That's just, um, a pastime when we're not busy—which we usually are, but sometimes—"

"Sci-fi?" she questions, hand on her hip and a glint in her eye. "Which show?"

_Do not say Space Heroes—_

"Space Heroes."

_UHG!_

She laughs, and my face turns red.

"I-I mean I  _used_  to watch that," I stammer. "But I totally don't anymore—"

"Calm down, Leo," she pacifies, clearly amused. "It was just a question."

_But you laughed._

"Besides, I haven't watched TV since I was a kid. It's not like I would know what any of that is."

 _But you_ laughed.

She shakes her head and sighs, grinning. "Well, you guys certainly made my night better." Her eyes flick up to mine and my breath hitches.

"Thank you," she says earnestly. I nod, swallowing down the lump in my throat. There's so much I want to say to her, so much that she needs to know...but I can't.

Silence fills the room, swift and heavy, laced with the ghosts of our time spent here and all the things neither one of us will say. She breaks it when she clears her throat and nods towards the window.

"You should probably get going. You're brothers are waiting out there, and I have to get back before I get into trouble."

It's like an ice pick being shoved through my gut. My chest feels cold and heavy, but I dip my head and avert my gaze. "Yeah," I whisper. "I, um… Thank you, for seeing us and stuff. I'll, uh, see you around?"

Her stare holds mine. "Maybe."

She says it so solemnly that it translates to "Probably not." I swallow again, feeling constricted by the weight, by this strange pain wrapping around my chest. Around my heart. Her eyes look so dark, so sad, that I just want to hug her, to hold her and tell her that everything will be alright.

But instead, I turn on my heels and head for the opening. Every step feels like a broken promise, a neglected hope. I stop, my hands on the cold sill of the window. My brow knits, and I glance back at her, standing there by herself in the big, empty room.

"I didn't forget," I say, loud enough for her to hear. "And I meant what I said, Karai. I  _will_  find a way to make you safe."

Even from where I stand, I can see her golden eyes waver, wet with the threat of tears. Her jaw clenches and her hands curl into fists at her sides. I expect her to tell me to give it up, like she did last time. I expect her to brush off my promise as another empty, forgotten dream.

But she doesn't. Instead, her gaze captures mine, stilling the breath in my lungs and the blood in my heart. Her voice is so steady, and yet so broken, like her every hope has been hung on them.

"I'm counting on it, Leo."

I swallow hard, trying to breathe past the weight lodged in my chest. I grip the window sill even tighter and pull myself up.

"Goodnight, Karai."

And then I'm out, consumed by the darkness.

My brothers are waiting for me when I reach the rooftop. Raph stands to his feet, stretching in anticipation.

"Finally," he breathes. "You two done making out yet?"

Normally, his remark would send heat running through me, but it just goes over my head.

"Come on," I say indifferently. "We've got criminals to catch."

"Psh," Raph scoffs. "They're not exactly 'criminal' material."

"So is Karai gonna start hanging out with us now?" Mikey asks hopefully. I refrain from rolling my eyes.

"It's not the same as with April," I mutter. "Karai's…complicated."

"And also the daughter of a psychopathic murderer," Raph adds.

I ignore him. "She's been putting herself in a lot of danger just to be with us," I explain. "She can't exactly 'hang out.'"

"I know," Mikey grumbles. "I just thought it'd be cool to have another human friend who's  _also_  a ninja. There aren't a ton of people like that, you know."

"Yeah," Donnie chuckles. "Humans trained in ancient Japanese battle arts who also accept our mutant appearances are kind of in short supply."

Mikey sighs heavily, and Raph gives him a good, solid punch in the shoulder to cheer him up.

"Don't be so glum, man. We're gonna go kick some butt!"

Mikey's eyes brighten. "And then get some pizza?"

"Shell yeah!" Raph grins, slinging an arm over our little brother. "Butt-kicking ain't official without some pizza!"

The two start laughing, shoving each other around for fun as we ditch the docks. I watch them with a faint smile on my face when Donnie pulls up beside me.

"It was nice of her to see us like that," he says idly. "She risks a lot for you…doesn't she?"

My throat works as I struggle for an answer I know I can't give, because his question is probing for something deeper.

"Yeah," I say weakly. "She does."

Mikey and Raph's laughter echoes behind us as the two continue to joke and mess around. But I feel far away from that, with her gold eyes burning behind my own.

"Leo...is everything alright?" he asks, obviously sensing my distress.

"Not really," I answer soberly. I look out to the city as we move, to the dazzling lights and motion, to the life that moves beyond our own.

_I'm counting on it, Leo._

I think of her, of everything that's happened, of everything I've promised, and I feel my heart steel over with resolve.

"But it will be."

* * *

 

THE END

 

* * *

 

**A/N: Whoo! We've finally reached the end of this glorious, angsty story! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for your time! :)**


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